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LISMORE CASTLE ON THE liLACKWATEli. 










^ GERALD BARRY; 

OR, 

THE JOINT VENTURE, 

A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


/ 

E. A. FITZSIMON; 




NEW YORK: 

James Sheehy, Publisher, 33 Barclay Street. 

Baltimork : 74 W. Fayette St. Washington : 613 Seventh St. 
Philadelphia ; 30 N. 5th St, Boston : 47 Hanover St. 

1881 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by 
JAMES SHEEHY 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. 0. 



.Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1880, by 
JAMES SHEEHY, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C. 








TO THE 

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF IRELAND, 

AND 

Theik American Cousins, 

THIS 

TALE IN TWO LANDS 


IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 


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TO THE READER. 


Perhaps no country has been so much legislated 
for as Ireland since a foreign nation took her national 
and domestic affairs into keeping, yet is she still cry- 
ing aloud for law and justice. In much the same 
way has she been dealt with in the matter of story 
writing. Year after year novels, tales, and sketches 
are issued which claim to be pictures of life in the 
Green Isle, and are accepted as such in perfect good 
faith by thousands who thus form a conception of 
Irish character as different from the reality as can 
well be imagined. But with as strong a protest as 
Ireland makes to the English parliament against ex- 
ceptional legislation does she appeal to impartial evi- 
dence against the misrepresentation of her national 
character and her social life. True artists there have 
been indeed; but to the greater number of readers in 
this country the works of Banim, Griffin, and Carle- 
ton, vivid and life-like as they are in coloring, are 


VI 


TO THE EEADEK. 


comparatively unknown, whilst the humorous traves- 
ties of Lever and Lover, whose favorite characters are 
the fire-eating squire and the blundering peasant, are 
accepted as pictures of Ireland and the Irish. As to 
the diluted creations of fancy emanating from fa- 
cile writers of our own day, whose benevolent design 
it is to show that the Hibernian is “ a poor hut honest 
individual,” and to give an indistinct intimation that 
{here are some intelligent and refined people amongst 
the Mac’s and O’s, we can only say — “Defend us 
from our friends.” We do not profess to vindicate 
the claims of Ireland at all points in this short tale, 
nor do we deprecate criticism on our own account; 
our aim is simply “to hold the mirror up to nature” 
in presenting the Desmond family and Gerald Barry 
to our readers. 

Regarding the moral of our story we shall only say 
that the sacrifice of inclination to duty is an every 
day occurrence in the Catholic home. Ho less fre- 
quently do we see how vulnerable to the assaults of 
temptation is that bulwark of pride which many at 


TO THE EEADER. vii 

the present time believe to be an all-sufficient defence 
against the promptings of fallen nature. 

Unhappily for modern society Mark Warren is 
not a character per se, but rather a tyjie of that pro- 
gressive thought which scouts as the trammeling of 
an effete civilization whatever would tend to re- 
strain its special idiosyncrasies. As may be sup- 
posed, the divorce laws are admirably adapted to 
the tastes of this class ; and so long as revived 
paganism in the marriage tie continues in force, 
there will be Julies deceived and abandoned. 


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TABLE OF CONTENTS 


CHAPTER. PAGE. 


I. — Avonmore. Professor Desmond Goes on a Geo- 
logical Expedition, and Finds a Treasure. . . 11 

II. — The Hero and the Heroine 31 

HI. — A Dead Language and a Death Summons 49 

ly. — Lights and Shades 64 

V. — What John Seaford Wrote, and What Gerald 

Barry Said 80 

VI. — Alice Desmond’s Non Possumus” 95 

VH.— Over the Atlantic. A Meeting and a Parting, 109 

VIII.— Gerald Gets Disgusted with H. M. S 135 

IX.— Gerald Has an Adventure, and Hears Two 

Stories 152 

X. — Alice and Laura are Each Interested in the 

Question — “What is He Like?” 172 

XL — Old Acquaintances Meet 199 

XII. — Frank Rood Learns the “Art of Love,” and 

Seeks the “Remedy” 216 

XIII. — Laura Seaford’s Dernier Ressort 230 

XIV. — No. 55,701 2.52 

XV.— AYliat the Morrow Brought Forth 268 

XVI. — Further Developments 280 

XVII. — Doctor Barry Puzzles over a Diagnosis 297 

XVIIL— Conclusion 312 






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The Joint Venture 


CHAPTER I. 

AVONMORE. — PROFESSOR DESMOND GOES 0^< GEO- 
LOGICAL EXPEDITION AND FINDS A TREASURE. 

Amongst the many picturesque scenes which form- 
a lovely setting for that isle so justly called the^ 
ocean’s emerald, none can surpass the vale of Avon- 
more. A rich upland slope forms a background for- 
the blue ridge of Knock-mel-down, which seems ta* 
court the light touch of the fleecy clouds floating, 
above its summit; the banks on either side are- 
guarded by forest veterans, through whose foliage^ 
the setting sun casts a radiance over lordly castlcj-. 
old abbey, and round tower, that still speak of Ire- 
land’s j)ast glory. The tower indeed as regards itS' 
history has been enigmatical as the Sphinx — no (E u- 
pus has yet unraveled its meaning. The abbey once 
resounded with the voices of three hundred choris- 
ters, whose matin psalm and vesper hymn arose in 
prayer and thanksgiving at the rising of the sun and. 


12 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


the going down thereof. The stranger, though he 
were Jew, Pagan, or Mussulman, found a refuge 
within its walls; the poor never left its gates unre- 
lieved. Suffering and want were not under a social 
ban in those days. True it is that then as now 
wealth and power claimed distinction; but the poor 
were still regarded and tended as God’s chosen ser- 
vants. 

This was in “the dark ages.” The ivy now feasts 
on the abbey’s crumbling walls — only a remnant is 
left of the once massive pile which embraced church, 
cloister, and schools within its precincts — noble 
schools, too, wherein students from every clime were 
supplied with instruction, books, and entertainment, 
in accordance with that medieval idea which gave all 
honor and encouragement to those in pursuit of 
knowledge. 

Modern progress makes light of all this. Ignoring 
the doctrine of faith and good works, it propounds at 
one time a philosophy founded on self-glorification; 
at another, advances speculative tenets that would 
make reason the offshoot of irrationality. 

“ The instincts of the unlettered peasant are far in 
advance of this boasted enlightenment.” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


13 


The addendum to our remarks was uttered by Pro* 
fessor Desmond as he laid aside a newly issued 
pamphlet with evident impatience and dissatisfac- 
tion. A moment after his pen is making a vigorous 
onslaught on the luckless treatise, and whilst its ar- 
guments are being demolished one by one, we shall 
take the opportunity to introduce the heroine of 
our tale who is now seated on a low ottoman in her 
father’s library, apparently engrossed in a volume the 
type of which bespeaks its antiquity. 

Alice Desmond was an only child. Her mother- 
had been for some years an invalid, and her father’s, 
world appeared to be centred in his books; but 
though outwardly unobservant and undemonstrative, 
he was deeply attached to his wife and daughter, and 
this regard gained our young heroine admittance 
to his sanctum when all others were excluded. 

“ What have you done to-day, Alice ? ” her mother 
would ask. 

And the student would tell of an Anacreontic ode 
translated, and a difficult problem solved. Mrs. 
Desmond was too devoted to her husband to question^ 
the wisdom of his views regarding Alice’s education, 
yet she was too clear-sighted not to perceive the 


14 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Vrrong tendency it migM have, and this, happily for 
the girl’s future, she strove to correct. The Profes- 
sor did not ignore the importance of feminine ac- 
quirements for women in general, hut they formed 
no part of the education he designed for his child. 
Alice Desmond should be distinguished from others ; 
and perhaps the only feeling of pride that ever en- 
tered into the Professor’s heart was produced by his 
daughter’s evident talent and love for study. For 
her he coveted that literary distinction which had no 
attractions for himself. He knew he had acquired a 
reputation as a philologist, a mathematician, a scien- 
tist — what had he not studied ? — yet this conscious- 
ness was not attended with any feelings of vain-glory, 
for was he not a Desmond? Talent was his heri- 
tage, though fortune and fame might alike pass him 
by ; and talent only did he care to transmit. With 
philosophical indifference the learned Professor was 
quite content to let the morrow provide for itself: 
his literary labors sufficed for present wants — ^be- 
yond this, mundane matters gave him no concern. 

Twenty years before the period at which our story 
opens, geological discoveries in America had opened 
up the vista of a subterranean world to European sa- 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


15 


vants, and the Professor was one of a party of ex- 
plorers who started on a scientific expedition to the 
New World. 

Almost as profoundly versed in theology as in 
science, Desmond had many a sharp encounter with 
those who were anxious to find in every discovery 
not the revelation of a new truth on the old basis of 
belief, but subject matter for new theories and the 
wildest vagaries of thought. 

On one occasion he was induced to attend a literary 
soiree at the house of a merchant in Boston, on 
which occasion the bearing of recent discoveries on 
the truths of revealed religion was to be discussed. 
Habitually reticent, it needed a stimulus to call forth 
the rhetorical powers of the Professor; but the elec- 
tric key having been applied, what a torrent of elo- 
quence burst forth ! Arguments profound and in- 
cisive as to what was established truth, and what was 
baseless conjecture; quotation after quotation from 
the Latin and Greek Fathers, setting forth what had 
been defined as matter of faith, and what was merely 
opinion. With caustic logic he dissected the incon- 
clusive conclusions, reconstructions, and evolutions 
which had been ventilated by some ambitious aspir- 


16 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


ant to advanced ideas; and with that vivid force his 
clear intellect and varied knowledge could bring to 
bear on any subject in which he was interested, he 
drew a picture of the world as guided and controlled 
by christianizing influences in contradistinction to the 
more than pagan license and corruption which would 
be the inevitable result of the leveling-down philoso- 

piiy- 

His address excited a sensation. The host was the 
first to applaud; and his daughter, Mary Seaford, 
showed undisguised appreciation of the Professor’s 
eloquence. Mr. Seaford was a rigid Presbyterian, 
and abhorred infidelity; but his only son, John, 
Mary’s senior by some years, felt strongly attracted 
towards the free-thinking principles of the day. 
Mary was aware of her brother’s increasing indiffer- 
entism; it had caused some estrangement between 
father and son, and this she hoped the Professor’s ar- 
guments would remove. But John Seaford was re- 
served in manner; adhering fixedly to an idea, he 
was slow to be convinced, still slower in acknowledg- 
ing the conviction. What effect the Professor’s ar- 
guments had left on his mind Mary never knew; but 
in her they had awakened feelings of admiration 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


17 


such as she had never experienced when listening to 
the flattering phrases of her many admirers. 

And what effect had Mary’s charms and grace of 
manner on the Professor? 

Most probably he could not himself answer the 
question were it propounded to him. The mythologi- 
cal history of Cupid, his descent, his stock in trade, 
and his many recorded escapades, were as familiar as 
the history of the Desmonds; but concerning love in 
its actual existence, the Professor might receive les- 
sons from any boarding-school young lady. 

On one occasion he had been introduced as the 
European savant to Mrs. Hunter, a young widow who 
made the language of the eyes a special study, and 
she determined that very evening to bring her bat- 
tery to bear on the grave Professor. Coming up to 
him as he was attentively examining some etchings, 
she said in a languishing tone: — 

‘‘Confess, Mr. Desmond, that Europeans can see 
something to admire in America.” 

“Marvels of beauty,” ejaculated the Professor. 
He was in one of his abstracted moods, and the note 
of admiration was for the etchings. 

“ Quite gallant,” thought Mrs. H. ; and she forth' 


18 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


with set him down amongst her captives. Then roll- 
ing her eyes in what she conceived to be a peculiarly 
irresistible manner — she had been practising before 
the glass for half an hour that morning — 

“How can you, Professor? You overwhelm me.” 
The Professor’s attention was now arrested. He 
was habitually polite, even deferential, to ladies; but 
so little was he versed in Cupid’s wiles that he at- 
tributed the widow’s looks to sudden indisposition. 
Somewhat startled, he exclaimed — 

“What is the matter. Madam? Bless me! you 
iQok ” 

“Overcome you would say with apprehension. 
Yes, Mr. Desmond, I must plead guilty to being 
sometimes a victim to over-wrought feeling. But 
why were you so startled ? ” 

“ Excuse me, Madam — ” 

“Nay, I insist on knowing.” 

The Professor had never learned the art of polite 
equivocation, and as the widow persisted he wag 
forced into an acknowledgment. 

“I was engaged in some physiological investiga' 
tions last week, and your face recalled ” 


“ What, Professor ? ” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


19 


‘‘A subject in extremity. Kemarkable resem- 
blance ! ” added be reflectively, as science came up- 
permost, 

“Your physiological observations appear to be sig- 
nally at fault, sir;” and the lady made a hasty exit, 
mentally resolved never to repeat that performance 
for the beneflt of a naturalist- 

There was another social gathering at the Seaford 
house, and Desmond needed no urging to be one of 
the party on this occasion. 

“ Mary Seaford takes a more than usual interest in 
scientific research,” remarked a lady to one of Miss 
Seaford’s supposed admirers, as she directed his 
attention to an alcove where the Professor seemed 
to be giving some explanation to which Mary listened 
with evident interest. 

“The old bore! ” was the reply, he must be fifty 
at least. How can Mary Seaford listen to his pros- 
ing?” 

Mary could listen, and it was plain she did so with- 
out being at all bored. What the subject was never 
transpired; and how the Professor ever conceived the 
idea of matrimony was a matter of no little wonder 
to those who knew him; yet certain it is that when a 


20 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


few days afterwards the learned body of savants 
asked him to join them in exploring the bed of the 
Muskingum, to their intense surprise the once en- 
thusiastic geologist declined the invitation. 

“A previous engagement — regretted not being 
able to be of their number in an enterprise of such 
moment.” 

That day he asked Mr. Seaford’s consent to his 
marriage with Mary. 

“ I entertain the highest respect for your great tal- 
ents and moral worth, Mr. Desmond; but I am op- 
posed to my daughter leaving. America, or marrying 
one of a different faith ? ” 

Desmond, as we need hardly say, cherished the re- 
ligion of his ancestors, and was a determined foe to 
oppression in every shape. The penal laws of Ire- 
land were one evening the subject of discussion at 
Mr. Seaford’s. The Professor waxed eloquent over 
their iniquity, and English domination was unspar- 
ingly condemned. But he did not stop here. The 
intolerance England transmitted to the New World 
was touched on, and the laws enacted by the Pilgrim 
Fathers were denounced in no measured terms. This 
caused a revulsion. Many of those present, amongst 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


21 


whom was Mr. Seaford, could admire philippics 
against tyranny and intolerance in other lands; 
“ but the earnest conviction of our Pilgrim Sires who 
cherished the tenets we profess” — ah! these should be 
respected; prying eyes should not scan too curiously 
their statutes against Catholics, Quakers, or other 

pests” in the haven of refuge for persecuted saints. 

The discussion probably arose before Mr. Seaford’s 
mind when he virtually said “No” to the Professor; 
and it seemed likely that another “It might have 
been” would be added to the list of life’s epics, for the 
consciousness of his want of fortune made Desmond 
resolve not to urge his suit in opposition to Mr. Sea- 
ford’s wishes; but another fiat had gone forth. 

A few days after the proposal one of his confreres 
called to discuss the arrangements for the homeward- 
bound trip. 

“ Then we start on Friday, Desmond. I am glad 
to hear you will accompany us, for after your deser- 
tion on the Muskingum expe<htion the bachelor mem- 
bers of our party voted you captured by the feminine 
foe instead of being one of the victorious leaders in 
the scientific brigade.” 

“Pooh! you jest, Bennett; and you will see how 


22 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


mucli in error the verdict was when you behold me 
pacing the deck of the Agamemnon next Friday, not 
a Benedict, nor likely to be.” 

Here the Professor unconsciously knitted his brows; 
and were he not a philosopher, he would assuredly 
have fetched a sigh. 

‘‘At what hour will the vessel sail ? ” he continued, 
somewhat with the air of one who would say “ ’ Twere 
well it were done quickly.” 

“At 3 p. M.; and may Father IN’eptune shield us 
from the fate of the Lycians and the trusty Orontes. 
By-the-by, that was a sad accident which occurred 
last night — Seaford is said to be past recovery.” 

The Professor looked petrified — he thought of the 
shock to Mary. “ You appear not to have heard of 
this before; yet I thought you were rather interested 
in the family.” 

“I am interested, Bennett. What has occurred?” 

“An accident on the Boston and Providence line. 
Three of the passengers were killed, and several, 
amongst whom is Mr. Seaford, are seriously injured. 
Have you not seen the newspaper report ? ” 

“Ho — I was particularly engaged all the morning.” 

The Professor did not say that during part of the 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


23 


time he had been trying to find a solution to the fol- 
lowing problem: — 

“ The attractive power exercised over body i^’o. 1 
by body 'No. 2 being granted for a certain time and 
space, in what ratio such power would be diminished, 
the time being squared and the distance being 
cubed ? ” 

“You will find the particulars of the disaster in 
The Messenger. I must now say an revoir, for I have 
to consult with our secretary about the voyage.” 

An hour afterwards Desmond was at the merchant’s 
house, and found his worst apprehensions confirmed. 
Next morning Mary Seaford was an orphan. 

On the following Friday the Agamemnon cleared 
the port of Boston, but the Professor was not one of 
the passengers. 

One evening, a month later, John Seaford was 
seated in his father’s place in the family library. 
He turned sharply as a hand was laid on his 
shoulder. 

“You wished to see me, John. Is anything the 
matter ? You look disturbed.” 

“ Yes. I suppose you know the purport of this.” 
He handed an open letter to his sister, and a glance 


24 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


at the small, finely-formed characters sent a deep 
flush to Mary’s face, but she uttered no word until 
the closely-written pages were perused once and 
again. 

“You are giving the document due attention.” 
The tone was not indicative of good-will. 

“It deserves attention. 'No one reading it could 
fail to be impressed by the honorable principles and 
the sincerity of the writer. Do you not agree with 
me, John?” 

“I am not in the habit of giving every wayfarer a 
passport to my esteem because of his ability to use 
fine phrases and rounded periods. But you surely 
do not mean to accept Desmond’s proposal, Mary? 
It would be entirely unsuitable.” 

“In what respects?” 

“ Is it necessary to remind you that you will have 
a handsome competence on the easy conditions of 
marrying one of your own creed and country? 
Desmond is a Romanist and an Irishman, as father 
probably remembered when he made the last dis- 
position of his property; for it appears from this 
communication that your suitor made his proposal 
once before. You surely are not ‘Quixotic enough 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


25 


to resign substantial realities for cMmerical fancies.” 

“In other words, you regard it as folly to cherish 
any higher ideal than wealth.’*' 

“Desmond would like to air his eloquence on this 
subject, but I am in no mood for trifling. Of course, 
Mary, I can embody your negative in my own when 
replying to the letter.” 

“I have already given the writer my answer.” 

“ Indeed ! How long since ?” 

“ Since yesterday.” 

“And the purport?” 

“Was the acceptance of an unselfish love. Youi 
know, John, my old Puritan belief, to which yoit 
think I should still adhere, taught me to regard vain 
display as reprehensible ; therefore my union with. 
Professor Desmond will entail no sacrifice.” Mary 
said this with an appealing look, but John Seaford, 
gave no sign in return— only the knitted brows wore 
a heavier frown. 

“There is another consideration,” he said, after a 
pause, in which Mary’s devotion arose before his 
mind, causing him to repress the tumult of passion 
her words evoked — “ and it is well you should look at 
this question in all its bearings. Disparity in age is 


26 


THE JOINT VENTUKE. 


usually considered a barrier to hymeneal bliss.” 

A gesture of dissent was Mary’s only comment. 
Without noticing it he continued 

‘‘ And I believe your religious convictions are as 
strong as those of the gentleman who lays claim to 
your hand.” 

‘‘Undoubtedly, my dear brother; but this is no 
longer an obstacle.” 

“ Like all romantic young ladies you conceive that 
your opinion will henceforth be an article of faith 
with the gentleman of your choice. Real life pre- 
sents things in a different aspect, and shows that two 
people entertaining opposite views on vital points are 
very liable to come into collision with each other, 
and find even a brief companionship irksome.” 

“ There is no danger of collision in this case, for I 
too am a Catholic in belief.” 

“Mary!” burst out John Seaford, starting up 
from his chair, all assumed calmness laid aside at 
this unexpected revelation, — 

“What madness is this? You cannot mean to 
sacrifice family ties, country, fortune, and creed, for 
a mere acquaintance of yesterday. I warn you that 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


27 


I at least will show respect to my father’s wishes — 
every article of the will shall be enforced.” 

“I understand your meaning, and have no com- 
plaint to make. All consequences have been well 
considered, and I do not shrink from the sacrifice — 
the heritage is entirely yours.” 

“ Is the disinterested aspirant to your hand aware 
that your marriage with him. will deprive you of all 
claims to the estate ? ” 

“ His letter answers that question.” 

‘‘So far as words go, but I referred to his actual 
expectations. A woman may fancy a constant feast 
of love, but men look for other viands ; and you 
may find Desmond clinging to hope as tenaciously as 
most mortals.” 

“You do him injustice; he is not a fortune-hunter. 
Will you not speak with him and judge for your- 
self?” 

“Ko; I do not appreciate the honor he has done 
me in asking my consent to a preconcerted arrange- 
ment to which I could under no circumstances be a 
party. I have only one more question to ask — have 
you fully decided on this ?” 

“My promise was given this morning. But oh! 


28 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


my dear brother, do consider this subject in a kind- 
er spirit, and let not your resentment be unjustly 
visited on an honorable man. Remember we are 
now left alone in the world. Will you sever the ties 
of kindred and affection because I cannot regard this 
matter as you do ? \ 

“Make your choice, Mary. Will you abide in 
your father’s house, or follow the footsteps of a 
stranger ? Once parted, we are never likely to meet 
again.” 

Mary Seaford’s heart throbbed painfully as she 
noted the inflexible purpose expressed in her broth- 
er’s stern look and compressed lip, but there was no 
hesitation in her reply — 

“ It must be as you will. My resolve is not based 
on a passing fancy that would yield to mere argu- 
ment.” 

“I recognize your fixity of purpose, although I 
fail to appreciate the source from which it springs. 
Henceforth then our roads will be apart. I presume 
you intend to put your present project into immedi- 
ate execution.” 


“ To become a Catholic ? ” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


29 


“ I am less interested on that point. I alluded to 
your marriage.” 

“We — the Professor and I — hoped to confer with 
you on the matter.” 

“It is unnecessary, and it is right you should 
know the reason of my seeming curiosity. We two 
can remain under this roof until the morning of your 
wedding — it is fitting that a Seaford should not want 
a marriage-feast; but you will excuse my attendance 
on the occasion — I shall have other business to en- 
gage my attention that .day.” 

“John! you will not do this. You will at least 
be present at my marriage.” 

“I cannot. I would fail in my duty towards our 
family and towards yourself, if I appeared to sanction 
a choice that must entail beggary on you. Mary, 
you will live to regret this.” 

“I have no fears. My religious convictions are 
above every other consideration, and I have full con- 
fidence that my union will not prove an ill-assorted 
one.” 

“Further argument I perceive is useless. If re- 
flection should induce you to see this matter in a 
more rational light we c^ resume this topic; other- 


30 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


wise let it henceforth be dropped forever between 
us.” 

A week after* the above conversation a gentleman 
and a lady waved an adieu to the American shore 
from the deck of the Bellerophon. The pair — they 
'were husband and wife — were the Professor and 
Mary Seaford. 

On that morning one of the two had entered into a 
double union, for the daughter of the Puritans was 
united to the true Church on the day she gave her 
hand to the Irish savant. 

“ Mary,” said her husband, as her native shore re- 
ceded from view, “you are leaving home, kindred, 
and a free land, to share the fortunes of one whose 
country and creed are alike under oppression. Will 
you not sometimes regret your choice ? ” 

The answer was given with a confiding look and a 
soft pressure of the hand: — 

“ Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my 
God.” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


31 


CHAPTER II. 

THE HERO AND THE HEROINE. 

Sixteen to-day ! ” 

Alice Desmond’s face was clouded as she made the 
announcement. She had had a quarrel. 

“Mercy on us!” exclaims Mrs. Inquisitor, “then 
she must be a conceited and ill-tempered creature. 
But that comes of her learning Greek and such stuff 
as no girl should bother her head with. Think how 
many bonnets she could trim, how much ruffling 
she could make, and the beaux she might catch while 
she was fooling away her time with Greek. But 
what was the quarrel about ? She surely did not get 
into a dispute about ologies with some old savant 
like her father.” 

Softly, good madam, and you shall be taken into 
full confidence. 

The quarrel was not because of ologies, and it was 
not with an old savant, unless you call a curly-headed 
gentleman with hazel eyes and an incipient mus- 
tache old, and dub a newly-fledged graduate a savant. 


32 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


But to decide the question we shall forthwith present 
the gentleman in question to the reader. 

Mr. Gerald Barry, like many other Irishmen, might 
say that his lineage and his purse were in inverse 
proportion; the one could be traced back in a direct 
line for centuries, the other occupied the smallest 
possible space. But as the unencumbered traveler 
can sing before a highwayman, so Gerald’s spirits 
were no less light than his purse. And if Dame 
Fortune had failed to supply him with one of hei 
golden spoons. Dame Nature had at least done he'fi 
part in giving him good looks, good health, and 
good temper. Our hero, for we acknowledge him to 
be such, loas good-tempered; but there are exceptional 
cases to every rule, and one of these exceptions it 
was that caused Alice to wear so grave a face on 
her sixteenth birth-day. 

The evening before Gerald had called to propose 
a boating excursion. 

“Such a jolly time as we will have. Alice,” said 
he, too intent on the proposed amusement to regard 
grammatical accuracy. 

“ But it is impossible, Gerald. I would like very 
much to have a sail, and to steer whilst you pull, but 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


3:} 


I have laid out another programme for to-morrow.” 

‘•Ob! of course,” rejoined Gerald, sulking a little. 
“ You divined my intention, I dare say, and con- 
trived to be engaged.” 

“And I shall keep my engagement, since Mr. 
Barry divines intentions so readily.” 

“ I suppose you promised to spend the day on the 
cricket ground. I heard Nolan ask you.” 

“You are at fault. No young gentleman will oc- 
cupy my attention to-morrow.” 

“Hum.” 

The assurance did not seem to give overwhelming 
satisfaction. 

“ But, Alice, what can it be ? Surely you might 
postpone it until Thursday, and have a sail to- 
morrow.” 

“I must again plead impossibility — my project 
was determined on a week in advance — ” 

“You seem to have the usual feminine fondness 
for secrets. Miss Desmond,” said Gerald, forgetting 
in his vexation that he was himself guilty of the 
offence he placed to Alice’s account. 

Our heroine was on the point of disclosing her pro- 
ject, thinking Gerald’s curiosity sufficiently aroused; 


34 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


but his last remark annoyed her a little, and instead 
of the explanation she was about giving, she re- 
torted — 

‘‘ If you cannot keep a secret better than you keep 
your temper, Mr. Barry, I shall never be tempted to 
confide one to your care.” 

Pshaw ! Alice, we are playing at cross-purposes. 
I am sure you can come if you will, and I wagei 
you’ll spend to-morrow reading Longinus, or writing 
a Latin ode. I fear you’ll become a confirmed blue- 
stocking.” 

Gerald was certainly cross when he said this, and 
Alice would have returned a Roland for the Oliver, 
but just then her mother’s voice was heard calling 
‘‘Alice ! Alice ! come quickly.” 

Exit our heroine, leaving Gerald with a low bow 
and an ironical compliment on his gallant speech. 

Exit our hero, with strong symptoms of vexation 
on his usually smiling face, and muttering a Latin 
quotation on the variable nature of woman. 

Experience shows that a quotation on the short> 
comings of the female sex has a marvellous effect in 
soothing the irate feelings of a man who happens to 
have lost his temper. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


35 


After consulting with her mother on some matters 
pertaining to her toilet for the following day, Alice 
took her usual place at the tea-table, where she was 
presently joined by Mrs. Desmond, the Professor, 
and Father Walsh, the worthy pastor of Avonmore, 
who always received a hearty welcome when his 
duties permitted him to call. 

As the good priest took the cup of tea presented 
by our heroine, he remarked — 

“Alice, I met your former school-mate, Gerald 
Barry, at the door as I was on the point of saying — 
“open sesame.” He did not appear to be in his 
usual spirits, and gave a rather incoherent reply to 
my ‘salve.’ You must take an early opportunity to 
lecture him on his change of manner.” 

“ But it is not my province to lecture wrong-doers. 
Father Walsh. May I suggest that you take him in 
hand yourself ? ” 

“ I suspect he would prefer extending his hand to 
some one else. But perhaps he is not the only 
wrong-doer in my parish. Some one may have been 
teasing the poor boy, and I may kill two birds with 
one stone by taking in hand a brace of offenders.” 


36 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


“What penalty would you impose in such a case, 
Father Walsh?” queried Mrs. Desmond. 

“I’d shackle them, my dear Madam — hind them 
for life, one to the other.” 

“ With heavy chains ? ” 

“Well, that would rest with the parties them- 
selves. Sometimes it is a chain of roses, distilling 
perfume during a whole life-time; and again, the 
chain is made of gold, attractive at first to outward 
view, hut not unfrequently it frets the captives’ 
spirits, and finally some evil genius may transform it 
into one of iron, that corrodes the hearts of those 
whom it holds fast.” 

“ Horrible ! How is this evil genius named ? ” 

“ He is a Proteus, and has a different name for each 
aspect. Sometimes the face is feminine, and the 
genius is called Frivolity; again it is masculine, and 
named Dissipation; at another time it partakes of 

the had qualities of hoth the foregoing forms it 

is then styled Irreligion. There are other characters 
which it assumes, more or less deformed, the most 
noted of which are Idleness, Ill-temper, Uncharita- 
hleness. Obstinacy, and Selfishness.” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


37 


‘‘ Do you warn the captives of all this. Father 
Walsh?” 

“ Assuredly, when they choose to ask counsel ; but 
it is a matter of world- wide notoriety.” 

“Yet some voluntarily choose the heavy golden 
chain.” 

“And wear it very contentedly too. Many will 
even tell you it is necessary for their happiness ; and 
certainly it- need never corrode their hearts if they 
use one recipe.” 

“ What is the valuable recipe ? ” 

“Mutual forbearance, without which mythology* 
tells us even Jupiter and Juno quarreled.” 

Here the Professor broke in — ^his beloved classics 
should be vindicated. 

“ It is strange that the mythology of the Greeks 
and Romans is generally understood in a literal 
sense.” 

“ Philosophy, I know, gives a different interpreta- 
tion of their majesties’ quarrels.” 

“ Undoubtedly.” The fables of mythology then 
became the subject of a discussion which was con- 
tinued in the Professor’s library after the ladies had 
left the tea-table. 


38 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


“ Did you tell Gerald of your proposed excursion 
to-morrow?” asked Mrs. Desmond, as Alice kissed 
her good-night.” 

“No, Mamma — ” 

“ How was that ? He called this afternoon ? ” 

“And I had to leave him unceremoniously in 
obedience to my dear mother’s summons,” said Alice, 
repeating her good-night to escape further ques- 
tioning. 

Lest our readers should imagine Mrs. Desmond to 
be a match-making mother who was carefully spread- 
ing her net to entrap the guileless Mr. Barry, we 
take this opportunity to assure them such a suspicion 
is wholly without foundation. In the first place, 
match-making mothers do not generally waste their 
time and talents on gentlemen whose patrimonial 
possessions are all in Ayr-shire; and even were Mr. 
Barry the possessor of a plethoric purse, Mrs. Des^ 
mond would not condescend to manoeuvre. Alice 
was in her eyes merely a child. She and Gerald had 
been playmates and schoolmates; for our hero had 
been left an orphan at fifteen, at which time Alice 
was in her tenth year. Gerald’s father and the Pro- 
lessor were college friends, and on his death-bed Mr. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


39 


Barry consigned his boy to the care of his old school- 
mate. The trust was not misplaced. Gerald was 
regarded as a son in his guardian’s house, and 
evinced all a son’s affection for the Professor and 
Mrs. Desmond, whilst Alice ever found him a preux 
chevalier — we were about to say a devoted brother, 
but old-fashioned Dame Truth reminds us that 
brothers, as a rule, display their devotion to other 
people’s sisters. 

Gerald showed a remarkable aptitude for imbibing 
knowledge, but the Professor would have stood 
aghast had he seen his pupil’s travesties on the sub- 
limest of odes and of epics, or heard the unorthodox 
opinions he broached to Alice regarding acknow- 
ledged scientific principles. A short time before the 
period at which our story opens, the young gentle- 
man had obtained an honorary degree at the Dublin 
university, and subsequently got a position in the 
Telegraph office, which left him ample leisure during 
the day, but required his attention up to a late hour 
in the evening. Hence his absence from the tea 
table, and the still pending quarrel between Alice 
and himself, which the young lady would seem to 
have treasured in memory, for that night Gerald 


40 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Barry appeared before her in dream-land, then sud- 
denly changed into a huge steamboat vomiting fire 
and smoke, and having for sails a pair of flapping 
blue stockings. 

The household met at breakfast. Our heroine 
received a birth-day kiss, and Gerald looked quite 
penitent when offering his greetings. After break- 
fast his presence was required for two hours at the 
office; then he would be free until evening; so with 
his usual hearty ‘‘ au revoir,” he took his leave. 

Shortly after Alice repaired to her favorite retreat, 
a little boudoir which her mother’s care had fitted up 
for her. Here it was we found her at the opening of 
our chapter, and the reverie from which she had but 
just awakened will account for her demeanor on 
that occasion. 

She had been pondering weighty questions — Ger- 
ald Barry’s brusquerie. Father Walsh’s allegorical 
chain, and the self-abnegation of a young heroine in 
Japan, all inextricably mixed up. If she, Alice 
Desmond, were at some future time to go on a mis- 
sion to Japan how would Gerald Barry feel about 
it ? TV^ould it make him as ungry as he was yester- 
day ? Ill-temper was one of the evil genii Father 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


41 


Walsh spoke of, and Gerald was certainly getting 
cross, or he would never have spoken slightingly of 
Latin odes. Blue-stockingl He would be here soon 
— it was nearly time now — and he should see she did 
not fear to he called a blue-stocking, or a writer of 
odes. 

‘‘ The heroine’s character is inconsistent,” objects 
Mrs. Inquisitor; “ she is sometimes a child, and 
sometimes an erudite young lady.” 

The impeachment may be true, dear Madam, but 
we assure you she is not the less a real character, 
whose prototype may be found in the Isle of Saints, 
where children can acquire much of the knowledge 
gained from books, and yet preserve all the unso- 
phisticated feelings of early youth. We admit that 
young ladies in other lands are well versed in the 
arts of dress and flirtation before their sisters in Ire- 
land would acknowledge to even a passing fancy for 
Beau the first. 

‘‘How doocid slow girls in Ireland must be then!” 
drawls young Mr. Exquisite Sophomore, puffing at 
his cigar, “awful stoopid! — just as bad as the dark- 
ness of the Middle ages, when those lazy monks kept 
all learning shut up, and wouldn’t let fellows gradu- 


42 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


ate. What would Zbe if I lived in those benighted 
days?” 

Ah ! what indeed, Mr. Exquisite ? You might 
possibly be condemned to work for a living instead 
of poising yourself on your toes, as you spin through 
one of the Strauss’ Waltzes with Matilda Jane’s arm 
twined round your manly waist. That you should 
be condemned to live in the Dark Ages ! ’T were 
pitiful, ’twere wondrous pitiful.” 

A tap at the door. Gerald makes his appearance 
not penitent but jubilant. 

‘‘ Alice, the secret’s out ! I know all about it, and 
I consider myself a most aggrieved individual for 
having been left so long in Cimmerian darkness.” 

‘‘What new light has broken in on Mr. Barry’s 
understanding ? ” 

“ Oh I an effulgent blaze — sufficient torchlight for 
an Indian war-dance;” and Gerald, feeling it neces- 
' sary to give some outlet to his feelings, took a whirl 
round the room. 

“ It is to be hoped you are not going to enact the 
savage role, Gerald.” 

■ “Well, I must restrain myself, or there may be a 
squalling spectator.” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


43 


“ Who should in that case change color from blue 
to red.” 

“ I really believe you harbor malice.” 

‘‘You mean that I entertain a remembrance of Mr. 
Gerald Barry.” 

“IN’ow, Alice, that is unkind. You are too fond of 
fairy tales to be a blue-stocking; and even if you 
were, I can never lose my regard for classic beauty.” 

“That prefers Latin odes to your distinguished 
company ? ” 

“ Ha ! I’ve caught you now. You did want my 
company; and that project which was determined on 
a week in advance, made me your cavalier on the 
fern-hunting expedition. Your mother, bless hei 
kind heart ! told me all about it.” 

“ Then you are fully initiated into the Eleusinian 
mysteries, and prepared to act your proper part.” 

“I shall partake of all proper and reasonable 
amusement with sincere pleasure. But why did you 
say no young gentleman should occupy your 
thoughts to-day? You fully intended I should 
accompany you.” 

“ I fully intended to go with mamma this morning 
to old Mrs. Bryan’s, and to spend the afternoon col- 


44 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


lecting ferns for papa’s special gratification. When 
did the young gentleman come in as the central fig- 
ure? ’ 

‘‘^When he knocked at the door and gained admit- 
tance; hut he now stands corrected, like the last 
classical fragment he penned. By-the-by, I see you 
have been writing an ode, and I am prepared to give 
you a quid pro quo. What is this? Ah ! — “ Carpe 
Diem” — suggestive — I intend to put the idea into exe- 
cution forthwith. Will you read it, or shall I ? ” 

“You may try your graces of elocution on it.” 

^‘Well, attention;” and Gerald read aloud, with 
some gesticulating flourishes 

“ Strive in all earnest, banish fancies vain — 

Only the Present lives, for Time all stern, 

A Saturn callous to his offspring’s fate, 

The Past devours, heeding no vain appeals. 

So nipping blasts assail the dreams of youth. 

Which fade and die, leaving a dreary void, 

Adown whose depths chaos and gloom sit throned; 
But Hope that unextinguished smoulders on. 

Though all the light of fond ambition’s dream 
Seems quenched for evermore, steals unawares. 
Breaks through the cloud that darkly hung around 
Life’s pathway:— as some smoothly gliding stream 
Forces its way ’ mid rugged rocks— through clefts. 
And dark ravines, and chasms yawning wide. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


45 


It wends its course — now sparkling in the sun, 

Anon deep hid in shade, — emerging soon. 

To ripple with soft music to the light: 

Thus Hope with magic touch lulls the sad heart. 
And the tired spirit nestles in her arms; 

Then Reason claims his right, regains his sway; 

Life is no longer purposeless, for thought 
Casts a bright halo round the buried past. 

Yet sees the sky illumined by a light 
That never fades — the light of purpose firm. 

And fixed resolve nobly to gain the goal 
Which to the upright mind and conscience pure 
Points ever on. Then the sweet maiden. Peace, 
With look benignant chases every cloud — 

That lowered darkly, and the heart is glad,” 

Alice, that’s not so bad,” said the young gentler 
man, as he came to an end; ’but being written in 
the vulgar tongue, you know, detracts very much 
Prom its merits. My production is not open to such 
an objection, for though penned in the vernacular, 
in deference to common prejudice, it is still strictly 
classical in design.” 

“Yet you spoke slightingly of Latin odes yester- 
day.” 

“Yes, when a young lady has such exceptional 
taste as to prefer dull pentameters to the Attic salt 
of a gentleman who shall he nameless. But my 


46 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


translation of a very striking passage in Homer 
must please the most fastidious taste — you shall 
judge for yourself, however. You will observe, 
Alice, that it is a poetical rendering of the scene des- 
cribed by Homer, when Chryseis in vain urged Aga- 
memnon to restore his daughter.” 

And with the air of a tragic hero Gerald read — 

’'Please your honors,” said he, •'! am come to implore 
That my fair-cheeked Chryseis you’ll kindly restore; 
Here are goblets of silver and big golden bowls, 

Then give her to me and I’ll pray for your souls.” 

“ Of course, Alice, you are aware that this promise 
on the part of the high-priest was not quite in con- 
formity with the mythology of the day; but a poet 
disdains to he fettered by considerations unworthy of 
the Muse’s notice.” 

“Then,” said bold Agamemnon, “you foolish old man, 
You had better get out just as quick as you can; 

And if ever I catch you ’longside my big ship. 

On the word of a king you may count on a dip.” 

‘‘You perceive I use ’longside by the figure aph- 
oeresis — perfectly allowable; and the language of the 
enraged monarch admirably expresses the meaning of 
the original.” 

“ So the old priest went out on the sea-shore to pray. 

In hopes he might move the bright god of the day 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


47 


To send on the Grecians all kinds of diseases, 

If they would not consent to do just as he pleases.” 

“ This stanza, like the foregoing, has two lines 
hj^percatelectic; poetic usage authorizes this license.” 

“ Then Apollo took up his far-shooting bow. 

And by Jupiter, swore that he’d let the Greeks know 
That if Calchas the mighty Apollo did please 
Neither Grecians nor Trojans should dare at him sneeze.” 

‘‘You must admire the flexibility of our language 
in this stanza — the last line particularly. Sneeze ! 
one of the slightest acts, involuntary too — intimating 
that not the least mark of disrespect, even if unin- 
tentional, would be allowed to pass unpunished.” 

“ He first shot the beasts, such »s donkeys and mules — 

The Greeks all began then to think themselves fools. 

But when he continued to shoot something further— 
They fell down on their knees, and cried out millia 
murther 1 ’ 

“ ‘ Millia murther ! ’ you will allow, is both classi- 
cal and highly expressive. The wholesale slaughter 
that ensued could not be more aptly rendered.” 

“And then there arose such a hullabaloo 
That the king and the nobles knew not what to do — 
Such screeching and groaning, and prayers and tears,” 
That the ghosts were at last forced to stop up their ears.” 

“ And no wonder,” said Alice, raising her hands in 


48 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


horror. I positively cannot listen to any more of 
this harrowing tale.” 

‘'Well, we shall say ‘To be continued,’ said Ger- 
ald, looking at his watch, “ for I hear your mother’s 
voice, and I see it is time to start.” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


49 


CHAPTER III. 

A DEAD language AND A DEATH SUMMONS. 

Spring has sought a western home ; summer and 
Autumn have followed in her footsteps, leaving 
Winter in his robes of ermine reigning at Avon- 
taore. 

The first great trial had come to Alice. That 
father, whose fame as a scholar extended far beyond 
his native vale, could no longer enjoy the companion- 
ship of his beloved books. His place in the library^ 
had been vacant for several days, and Dr. O’Gorman, 
the family physician, looked graver at each visit. A 
week before he had prescribed absolute repose of 
mind and body, but the Professor disregarded all 
injunctions in his eager desire to complete a worl^ 
on the cuneiform characters, which at that time was 
the all-absorbing topic of discussion among literati. 
In his early youth Hugh Desmond had heard of the 
inscriptions sent to Phillip HI. by Figueroa, who cor- 
rectly supposed them to be written in some lost lan- 
guage, although learned heads for nearly two cen- 


50 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


turies afterwards advanced theory after theory re- 
garding the different arrangements of wedges and 
arrow-heads ; some maintaining them to be talis^ 
manic signs aiiid astronomical symbols, whilst others 
Bet them down to the fancy of an artistic antedilu-j 
vian, and not a few very shrewd people conceived 
they had found a satisfactory solution of the prob- 
lem when they announced the lines to be the work 
of those ancient and indefatigable sculptors, worms I 
Our Irish savant did not subscribe to any of the 
above opinions, and after seeing a copy of the in- 
scriptions found by -Chardin and Niebuler at Per- 
sepolis, the subject constantly recurred to his mind, 
and became matter for deep thought and earnest 
inquiry. Like other oriental scholars, he at one time 
believed the characters to be of Cufic origin, but 
when the ingenious surmise of his co-temporary, 
Grotefend, led to the deciphering of the names of 
Darius and Xerxes, a clue was gained by which the 
labyrinth could be fully explored. The subsequent 
labors of Burnouf and Lassen gave almost a complete 
alphabet; and now only one additional link was 
wanting to complete a chain that would bring the 
19th century into communication -with those who 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


51 


carved historical records when the world was still in 
its infancy. The missing link was the elucidation of 
a character represented in three different forms — 
wherefore, was as yet matter of conjecture. Other 
eminent scholars, besides the Professor, were inves- 
tigating this point — his countryman. Rev. E. Hincks, 
of Killyleagh, Sir Henry Rawlinson, who was then in 
Bagdad, and Julius Oppert, in Berlin; and by a re- 
markable coincidence all three announced the solu- 
tion of the problem at the same time, though there 
Was no possibility of communication between them ; 
yet another had been before them in the field of dis- 
covery — but we anticipate. 

Night and day the Professor labored at his task, 
sleeping in his chair when overpowered by fatigue. 
In vain Mrs. Desmond and Alice urged the necessity 
of repose ; so thofoughly had the subject taken pos- 
session of his mind that he could not be induced to 
leave his library for five successive nights. The 
solution was at last found — in two days more the 
pamphlet would be prepared for publication, and ad- 
ditional pressure was brought to bear for the final 
charge^ which was intended to annihilate some crudi- 
ties that had lately been advanced. 


52 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


The goal was indeed won — brain and hand had 
performed their task, but nature now claimed pay- 
ment for the drain on her resources. Before the 
completion of the manuscript the Professor was in 
a high fever. In his delirium he deciphered Assy- 
rian and Persian inscriptions which had never been 
brought to light ; climbed Mount Behistun to read — 

“ I am Darius, the great king, the king of kings ; 
king in Persia, king of the provinces, son of Yis- 
tacpa, grandson of Arsama, the Achsemenian.” 

‘‘Hand me that slab — carefully — touch it with 
reverence ; it is a greater treasure than the mystic 
cabala.” 

“How old is it, dear father,” said Alice, approach- 
ing his bedside with a block she kept always at hand, 
in anticipation of this fancy which passed so often 
through the Professor’s mind. 

“You could never imagine. What think you of a 
history traced on stone before Babylon was founded? 
Thaantus and Sanchoniathon borrowed from it. See 
these arrow-heads — can you guess their meaning?” 

“No, father, unless it be that even then people 
waged war on each other.” 

“You have still much to learn, child. You are 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


53 


totally ignorant of the cuneiform writing. Grote- 
fend thought these characters represented m and n — 
Next year ” — and fancy would strike another note. 

“My child,” whispered Mrs. Desmond, as she 
entered the room an hour afterwards, “it is now 
your turn to take some rest.” 

“ But I am not at all tired, mother, and you look 
very pale and ill j you cannot have slept more than 
two hours.” 

“Longer than that, I think. I feel much re-, 
freshed, and I insist on you now resigning youi 
place to me. Your father seems more quiet.” 

“ He has been sleeping a little, and I think there is 
an improvement. His thoughts still wander, but he 
spoke almost rationally about the lost language.” 

Mrs. Desmond looked at the patient, and sighed 
heavily. To her more practised eye the symptoms 
did not speak of hope. 

“Well, go now, Alice, and do not return until J 
call for you.” 

“ Then promise to call me at midnight.” 

“No, my dear; you had very little rest last night, 
and I cannot have my assistant prostrated.” 

“She is not in any danger, mamma. Have you 


54 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


not told me I should be firm when duty is involved ? ” 

‘‘ And now it is your duty to obey. Go at once, 
Alice; we must not disturb your father” — and as the 
patient began to move restlessly, Alice kissed her 
mother’s pale cheek, and glided noiselessly from the 
room. 

On gaining her little chamber a feeling of indes- 
cribable loneliness came like a dark shadow over her 
spirit. She had tried to look cheerful in her moth- 
er’s presence, and she still clung desperately to hope. 
She would not even think of the possibility of a fatal 
termination to her father’s illness, yet her heart sank 
when she recalled her mother’s troubled look in the 
sick room; and the tears started to her eyes as kneel- 
ing before the crucifix in her oratory she uttered the 
words — ‘‘Thy will be done on earth as it is in 
Heaven.” 

Those who place their burden of grief at the foot- 
stool of Divine Grace never go away desolate. Alice 
felt this as she rose up. “Your father’s life is in the 
hands of a merciful Providence who watches over 
the least of his children with Divine love,” whis- 
pered her guardian angel. The thought gave rest to 
her perturbed spirit, and slumber soon lulled her 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


55 


wearied senses into forgetfulness of all sorrow. 

Hitherto we have allowed the reader to infer that 
our heroine possessed all the fervor of faith which 
characterizes the Catholic isle. Such was indeed the 
case. The Professor’s biblical knowledge and per-* 
feet acquaintance with the writings of the fathers, 
made him an invincible antagonist whenever religion 
became a topic of conversation among hia literary 
friends, and Alice listened to such discussions with 
lively interest, feeling a proud confidence in her 
father’s ability to uphold the doctrine of the church ; 
but her mother s precepts on good works did more 
to mould her character in a Catholic type than did 
the dissertations on dogma, on which her father so 
often expatiated. Her reading, too, had its effect. 
It must be admitted that she was often erratic in hei 
choice of books — ^Longinus on the Sublime might be 
followed by Tales of the Genii,— Paradise Lost by 
Fugitive Rhymes ; but with the dross there was much 
pure gold. The Lives of the Saints impressed her 
imagination even more vividly than the Arabian 
Rights, for she recognized in the heroes and heroines 
of real life all the noble qualities that historian or 


56 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


novelist ever portrayed — truth, constancy, courage, 
and a sublimity of devotion in endless variety, yet 
all typifying the same motive and the same belief. 
The heroism of St. Sebastian, the constancy of St. 
Agnes, the lore of Albertus Magnus, and of his still 
greater pupil — the galaxy of Martyrs, Confessors, 
Doctors, and Virgins, made an impression on her 
mind not to be effaced by contact with the world, by 
the asperities of life, or by those sophistries which 
she afterwards heard uttered, that would put pleas- 
ure in the place of duty. 

* * * * it: 

One — two — three. Each hour rings out clearly in 
the silence of a winter’s night, and the hearts of the 
listeners beat fast, for life and death hang trembling 
in the balance. Would the potion avail? Would 
the lamp of life be replenished, or the oil being 
spent, would it be for ever quenched in the darkness 
of the tomb? Moments were as years whilst each 
pulsation was counted. The physician relinquishes 
the patient’s hand, and replaces his watch, but 
neither word nor sign gives assurance of hope. Mrs. 


A TALE IK TWO LAKES. 


57 


Desmond notes each movement with trembling anx- 
iety, whilst Alice, with clasped hands, looks the ques- 
tion which she fears to ask. Doctor O’Gorman 
makes a motion to enjoin silence, and beckons Ger- 
ald from the room. He is absent scarcely a minute 
— mother and daughter are at his side, but a glance 
at his face tells them there is no hope. Alice lays 
her head on her mother’s bosom, yet she does not 
weep, for the life so dear to them still claims their 
care — hereafter there will be time for mourning. 

“What is it, Gerald ? ” Mrs. Desmond looks up as 
she feels the light touch on her arm. In a moment 
she is at her husband’s side — Alice and Gerald are 
there too — and there is a look of recognition in the 
Professor’s face. 

“Mary, you once accompanied me over the great 
ocean that divides two hemispheres. I am about to 
embark on a broader ocean now, that which lies be- 
tween time and eternity, and I go alone this time. 
You will pray that we may meet again in the 
future ? ” 

“Yes, Hugh — this trust in the mercy of God alone 
sustains me.” 

“It is my consolation also. A mirror stands be- 


58 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


fore my eyes, in which I see reflected all your love 
and devotion since the day you left home and kin- 
dred for an isolated student, who gave to dead leaves 
overmuch of that attention which was due to the liv- 
ing flowers that brightened his home. For this I 
need your forgiveness.” 

‘‘Were there indeed need of it, dear Hugh, it 
would be freely granted. But it is not so. ‘How- 
ever engrossed with your books, I know your heart 
was always mine.” 

“Always — always with you and Alice. But I 
would have died happier had I considered the future 
as well as the past. What will become of you both 
when I am gone ? ” 

“ Our Father in Heaven will provide, my dear hus- 
band — a sorrowful Mother will not forget us in our 
affliction. Be not troubled ; I feel that we shall not 
be left desolate..” 

“ Gerald ! ” 

The young man took the wasted hand in his. 

“I entrust these, my treasures, to your care.” 

“ My dear guardian and father, it is a trust that 
shall be dearer to me than my own life. Alice shall 
need nothing a brother’s affection can give her, and 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


59 


Mrs. Desmond will be to me in the future, as in the 
past, a beloved mother.” 

‘‘I doubt it not, Gerald. Your father and myself 
were as brothers, and I knew him to be ever true of 
heart. Do not weep, Alice ; you were wont to ad- 
mire the philosophy of Epictetus.” 

‘‘ It can give no consolation now, dear father.” 

“True, my child — I realize this. The fiery fur- 
nace of affliction can be extinguished only by Divine 
love. And now I would wish to see Father Walsh.” 

As the words were uttered a knock was heard at 
the door. It was the good priest whom Dr. O’Gor- 
man, at Gerald’s request, had summoned. Father 
Walsh had administered the rites of the church 
when the first alarming synaptoms appeared, and the 
Doctor told him the patient had still some hours to 
live ; nevertheless he would not tarry when the inter- 
ests of a soul were concerned. The Catholic priest 
does not wait to argue possibilities in such cases — to 
him is delegated the power to bind and to loose, to 
give the repentant sinner assurance of pardon, to 
soothe the fears of the soul that is about to be sum- 
moned before its Judge, and to console those who 


60 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


are left to mourn. This mission Father Walsh had 
often fulfilled. 

Decrepit age tottering on the brink of the grave, 
and still clinging tenaciously to the last thread of 
life, had been reconciled to heaven ; vigorous youth 
casting a longing look back on the pleasures that 
were within its grasp, had been purified in spirit, and 
taught to look to a brighter future — to Lazarus was 
promised a crown of glory, bright in proportion to 
his sufferings here below ; and to Dives a full meas- 
ure of forgiveness in return for the humble acknowl- 
edgment of his errors and the reparation of his 
wrong-doing. 

During the whirl of life, the pomp of power and 
the allurements of pride are ignes fatui, which, with 
delusive hope, tempt the traveler further and further 
from his course.— “See yon light; it speaks of a 
bright home and a happy fireside.” 

The traveler hurries on ; he sees wealth and fame 
in the distance. 

“Here is a brook of limpid water. Stay and 
refresh thyself.” 

“IsTo, the goal is nearly won. I can rest then.” 

“Poor wanderer, thy labor has only begun; the 


A TALE m TWO LAN^DS. 


61 


meteor thou foUowest is far off j see, it glimmers on 
the distant height. Tarry for a brief span in this 
nook where piety has placed a statue of the Virgin 
of Sorrows. And here is a wayfarer like thyself, 
whose face speaks of pinching poverty — wilt thou 
not relieve his necessities ? ” 

“i^ot now — not now. There is a glorious vist^ 
before me when I shall have gained the height — then 
I shall have time to pray by the shrine, and my door 
shall be open to the beggar. Onward ! ” 

Faster through the dark night — faster through the 
drifting snow and the sleety rain. 

‘‘List ! this orphan cries to thee for aid.” 

“^IN'o time to wait now.” ' 

“ Thou hast crushed the life out of a young heart.” 

“It obstructed my way — the summit must be 
gained.” 

“Now thou art on the height — where is the object 
of thy ambition ? ” 

“ Away — away in the distance — Alas ! I can pur^ 
sue it no longer. And see yon grim monster who 
points his skeleton finger, beckoning me to folloTV 
him. Is he, too, a delusion ? No ; he approaches — 1 
feel his icy breath — his cold hand is on my brow. 


62 


THE JOINT VENTUEB. 


And now he whispers in my ear — ‘ Thou hast 
crushed a human heart — allowed the orphan to 
perish — passed the beggar by — neglected the 
shrine. Come, I await thee!’ — O Death, thou 
art a reality!” 

Thus cries the worldling ; thus felt the wily 
Italian who acknowledged no power but Caesar’s ; who 
heeded no remonstrance, and scoffed at all warning. 
The King of Terrors approached, and that earthly 
potentate, for whom the dying man had despoiled the 
altars of religion, could give him no aid in his 
extremity. The humblest monk is more powerful 
then ; and with anxious voice he calls out — 

“ The priest ! — quick !— quick ! ” 

Gerald entered at once upon his duty as protector 
and counselor,' whilst Father Walsh remained in pri- 
vate communication with the Professor. On re- 
entering the sick room Mrs. Desmond noticed a 
change in her husband. The troubled look had 
giyen place to an expression of tranquil serenity, and 
he was evidently at peace with earth and heaven. 
He spoke calmly of his approaching dissolution, gave 
some directions regarding general matters, and then 
asked Alice to read aloud a chapter from St. Thomag 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


63 


h Kempis. Mrs. Desmond afterwards recited the 
prayers for the dying, to which he made the respon- 
ses ; and at their conclusion he sank into a slumber. 

“ Mary ! ” 

“I hope you feel better, dear Hugh.” 

“Yes — better, happier. Bend lower~I wish to 
say farewell.” 

The three watchers kiss his pallid brow, — a smile 
passed over his face, and the spirit took flight to its 
eternal abode. 


64 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


CHAPTER IV. 

LIGHTS AND SHADES. 

Mrs. Desfaiond, by a strong effort of will, bore up 
bravely until the last sad duties were rendered to the 
departed ; then the bow which had been long over^ 
strung gave way, and for many days Alice feared 
her mother would succumb to the combined effects 
of grief, anxiety, and physical prostration. During 
the Professor’s illness, INTorah, the faithful family ser- 
vant, had often begged hard for a share in the duties 
of the sick room, but these appeals her mistress 
would always negative — 

‘‘Your strength is taxed already, I^'orah. I have 
only this duty to attend to, and it shall be my care. 
Besides Alice relieves me very often.” 

To this resolution she adhered. All entreaties to 
induce her to leave the sick room for more than two 
hours at a time, had been ineffectual; and care and 
watching, acting on her natural delicacy of constitu- 
tion, had at length done their work. 

Alice now seemed equally jealous in reserving to 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


65 


herself the right of attendance on her mother, and it 
required no little argument to induce her to yield oc- 
casionally to Korah’s solicitations. 

‘‘ Shure, Miss Alice, if you were as strong as Samp- 
son himself you couldn’t stand without lying down 
sometimes — ” and this being too forcible for contra- 
diction, Norah carried her point. 

Gerald faithfully kept the promise he had given 
the Professor — all the attention and care that earnest 
devotion could suggest, were thought of and pro- 
vided; yet even his hopeful nature was sometimes 
painfully oppressed by sad forebodings. 

How anxiously Alice noted every change, and 
how often her heart fluttered as death seemed about 
to visit that chamber again, leaving her entirely 
desolate ! How many a supplication she sent up to 
Heaven for that beloved mother ! How many a fer- 
vent Pater and Ave was offered up by I^’orah ‘‘for 
the poor mistress and Miss Alice, who is like me own 
child to me. O Holy Virgin, comfort her, acushla 
machree, and lave her a little longer^ that mother who 
is now the only one she has in this world to look to. 
Shure it’s meself would be glad to help me blue-eyed 
darlin,’ who always has the kind word and the pleas- 


66 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


ant smile; but it’s you, sweet Mother of Mercy, can 
sjDake to your blessed Son, and ask Him to take away 
the black shadow of death from this house. Holy 
Mary, Queen of Heaven, pray for us.” 

The prayers of the righteous avail much, and if ut- 
tered in the language of the heart, it matters little 
whether or not they be clothed with the adornments 
of speech. Other petitions more correct in expres- 
sion, ascended that day to the throne of Divine 
grace, but who shall say they found more favor than 
Norah’s ? 

“The black shadow” was indeed taken away, and 
a bright ray of hope cheered those who watched by 
Mrs. Desmond’s couch. She improved slowly, but 
gradually, and after three months she had almost re- 
gained her former health. As soon as the Doctor’s 
prohibition regarding conversation had been with- 
drawn, she asked Alice if her uncle, John Seaford, 
had been informed of the Professor’s death. 

“Yes, mother,” was the reply; “I sent him a 
newspaper containing the obituary; but I could not 
think of writing whilst you were in so precarious a 
state.” 

“Strange that he has not noticed it. John is 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


67 


rather reserved and cold, but I always gave him 
credit for kind feelings.” 

Another week passed — still no letter. 

‘‘ Perhaps he did not receive the newspaper, 
mother,” suggested Alice; “or if received it may 
have been put aside without his having seen the 
obituary. Had you not better write ? ” 

“ I feel some hesitation about doing so, my dear, 
in the present condition of our finances. Your uncle 
strongly opposed both my resolution to enter the one 
safe fold and my marriage with your poor father. 
Since than we have corresponded only at intervals 
far apart; but I still thought John retained some of 
the old love that existed between us in childhood.” 

“ Cousin Laura is about my age — is she not ? ” 

“A few months younger; and she appears to have 
much of her father’s decision of character, combined 
with the generous impulses of youth.” 

“I am glad she does not inherit Uncle John’s re- 
serve of manner, for I feel towards her as a sister, 
especially since we have each but one parent left us 
to love,” and Alice threw her arms round her moth- 
er’s neck, as she remembered how frail that mother’s 
thread of life had looked a few weeks before. 


68 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Returning her fond embrace, Mrs. Desmond com 
tinned — 

‘‘Yes, poor Laura has passed through the furnace 
of affliction as well as yourself. But you must not 
conceive a prejudice against your uncle, my child. 
INo one enjoys more confidence for integrity in busi- 
ness transactions, or more respect for moral worth, 
than John Seaford; and his mind is naturally noble, 
though sometimes warped by prejudice. I would 
feel no hesitation in acquainting him with our pres- 
ent embarrassed position were it not that he would 
probably reflect on your father’s memory for what 
he would call improvident habits. Still he should be 
made acquainted with our bereavement, and it may 
be, as you say, that he has not seen the obituary.” 

So it was decided that Mrs. Desmond should write 
to her brother informing him of the Professor’s 
death, and the probability of Alice utilizing her edu- 
cation either in Ireland or in America. She solicited 
no favor; but mother and daughter offered up a no- 
vena that the Comforter of the afflicted might raise 
up a friend for them in their necessity. The letter 
was dispatched, and the issue committed to Heaven. 

The joy Alice felt at her mother’s recovery re- 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


69 


Stored much of her own former elasticity of spirits, 
and Mrs. Desmond knew the time had come to illus- 
trate by example the counsels she had formerly given 
her daughter on Christian fortitude and resignation. 
She rejoiced that her life had been prolonged for the 
protection and happiness of her child; and duty as 
well as worldly wisdom told her it would not be well 
to shut out the bright sunshine in order to nurse her 
sorrow in the darkened chambers of thought. Hence 
she assumed a cheerful look when Alice spoke of the 
future with all the hopefulness of youth; and day 
after day the tie between mother and daughter was 
drawn all the closer by their dependence on each 
other. 

Gerald’s ardent and enthusiastic temperament con- 
tributed also not a little to restore serenity. It was 
impossible to be gloomy when his voice rang out in 
cheery tones — 

‘‘Good morning, Mrs. Desmond — hope you rested 
weU last night. — Ah ! glad to hear it. You are look- 
ing much better. Alice, the sun is nearly as bright 
as your blue eyes; but you must get a little more 
color into your cheeks, or I cannot say ‘My love is 
like the red, red rose ’ without fibbing. Is she not 


10 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


looking pale, Mrs. Desmond? Order her immedi- 
ately into the garden, where I shall see she does not 
get under a weeping willow to meditate.” 

‘‘You are right, Gerald. Alice needs air and exer- 
cise, and you may take her into custody until tea- 
time.” 

“Am I then to become Mr. Ogre’s helpless cap- 
tive for the next hour ? Cruel fate ! ” sighed Alice. 

“ Better speak the ogre fair, proud lady, or he may 
make the term of imprisonment longer.” 

“ hTo, no,” said Mrs. Desmond ; “ I veto that pen- 

alty. You must both put in an appearance at tea.” 

“ Then the ogre had better enter into the imme- 
diate enjoyment of the power entrusted to him,” said 
Gerald. “ Come, fair prisoner ; and be not contu- 
macious, nor mutinous in spirit.” 

Thus the days passed — Gerald and Alice mean- 
while building castles in the air, and Mrs.. Desmond 
sometimes smiling approval, and sometimes shaking 
her head dubiously, as they were submitted to her 
consideration. 

There had been a great sensation in Avonmore 
when the death of the eminent litterateur was 
announced. A public expression of condolence was 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


11 


sent to Mrs. Desmond ; and the unlettered laborer, 
with all the Celtic admiration for learning, paid 

a glowing tribute in the national tongue to “the 

% 

great scholar, ” who had gone for ever. The Profes- 
sor’s literary friends also sent letters of sympathy — - 
some suggested the publishing of his manuscripts, 
but on a cursory examination all were found in so 
incomplete a form that only those of literary ability 
equal to his own could undertake the editing of 
them, and these latter shrank from a labor requiring- 
so much time and research. The matter therefore 
dropped, and Mrs. Desmond began to consider the 
advisability of opening a school in Avonmore, if her 
brother would not suggest some other course. She 
hoped he * would, for, since her husband’s death, a 
yearning had come upon her to revisit the scenes of 
her childhood. She longed to see again the Stars 
and Stripes floating proudly in her own free land, 
and to note those progressive strides in national 
greatness which the Republic had made during the 
twenty years she had been absent from its shores. 
Though warmly attached to that Catholic isle in 
which she had found a hospitable welcome, she was 
nevertheless painfully affected by the oppressive 


Y2 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


legislation that impeded all progress, cutting off the 
avenues of labor, and rendering the condition of the 

masses hopelessly miserable. Notwithstanding her 

# 

unrivaled advantages for trade and manufactures, 
Ireland is almost destitute of both ; hence the labor- 
er’s family is often altogether dependent on the daily, 
and sometimes precarious, wages of the father. Mrs. 
Desmond had frequently contrasted this wretched 
state of things with the condition of the workingman 
in America, 

“Where children are blessings, and he who has most 
Has aids for his fortune and riches to boast,” — 

and shall we wonder if in her loneliness she pined 
for her native soil, endeared by former associations, 
by its free institutions, and the broad field of action 
it opens to individual effort ? Alice, too, if depend- 
ent on her own resources, would be better able to 
utilize her education in America than in the little 
town of Avonmore, however much sympathy and 
encouragement she would receive from her Irish 
friends. 

But the further consideration of this subject 
would depend on John Seaford’s letter, so Mrs. Des- 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. Vo 

mond resolved to await her brother’s reply before 
deciding as to her future course. 

• “Now, dear mother, I am ready,” said Alice, as 
she entered the parlor, dressed for a walk. “But 
are you sure you can bear this ? I fear it will agi- 
tate you, and the Doctor has positively forbidden 
excitement of any kind.” 

“ Do not fear, Alice. I have learned submission to 
the will of God, who orders all things for the best, 
and I cannot postpone this visit to the cemetery.. 
Have you the flowers ? ” 

“They are here, mother — ^papa’s favorites an(t 
yours.” 

“ Then let us go, my dear.” 

The little Catholic cemetery was about half a mile 
from the house, and the devoted wife took the earli- 
est opportunity to visit the last resting-place of him^ 
with whom she had traveled through the smooth 
vales and the thorny brakes that make a twenty 
years’ life journey. A tribute of remembrance to 
the departed is recognized as fitting by all Christians: 
to Catholics who acknowledge a communion between 
the members of the Church suffering, militant, and 
triumphant, it is an act of devotion. Even pagan 


V4 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


morality, with all its vagueness of belief regarding a 
higher existence, accounted the care of the dead a 
pious duty. The embalmed body, despite all its un- 
sightliness, was a sacred treasure to the Egyptian; 
the Roman guarded the urn with watchful love; 
even the rude Indian chanted a death-song over the 
fallen hero. “ ’ Tis the Divinity that speaks within 
us,” proclaiming an immortality for the spirit en- 
shrined in the mouldering clay. “We shall meet in 
the Elysian fields,” said the refined Greek. “ My son 
will welcome his father to the happy hunting- 
ground,” soliloquized the red man. But the Chris- 
tian, with the light of Divine knowledge, sees through 
the darkness of the tomb the beatified spirit purified 
from the leaven of earth, and united in bonds of love 
with its Creator. 

At the mortuary chapel, fronting the entrance to 
the cemetery, the ladies stayed to offer up a De Pro- 
fundis. Then proceeding slowly by the graveled 
walk on the right, they came to an angle where was 
a monument of white marble, surmounted by the 
Christian emblem of salvation. Strewing her flora? 
offering on the grave, Alice knelt beside her mother. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


75 


and prayed long and fervently for the soul of him 
who now needed no other care. 

“ Leave me, my child, for a brief space,” whispered 
Mrs. Desmond; and Alice sought a retired nook, 
where, seating herself on a rustic bench, sTie gave free 
scope to those thoughts which naturally suggested 
themselves. Yonder slab recorded the name of some 
one’s bright-eyed darling, whom death summoned at 
sixteen; here mouldered the dust of an aged grand- 
sire, who lived through ninety winters; this simple 
stone marked the grave of Thomas Hind, the harm- 
less village youth, who had no talents to account for; 
and in the far off nook, where her mother was still 
praying, slept one whose mind had penetrated the 
mysteries of human lore. Youth and age, beauty 
and homeliness, knowledge and ignorance, were 
brought to the same level in this silent abode, 
whither all should finally come — wealth could not 
flee from its grim portals, poverty could not pass it 
by. “ The days of man are but as grass,” saith the 
Psalmist, and Alice recalled the Latin poet’s render- 
ing of this truth — 

all must tread the paths of fate, 

And ever shakes the immortal urn, 


76 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Whose lot embarks us, soon or late, 

On Charon’s boat — ah ! never to return.” 

Musing thus, she forgot the flight of time. Then a 
sweet twittering fell on her ear, and presently a carol, 
that sounded like a resurrection hymn, ascended to 
the skies. Looking up, she saw the little songster 
resting on the highest branch of a tree, which threw 
its projecting shade over the old rnan’s grave. Thus, 
she thought, “his spirit freed from its vesture of 
clay, the burden of age and infirmity shaken off, 
has soared heavenward to join the celestial choir in 
a song of praise to the Giver of all good.” Her own 
beloved father, who had departed in the bosom of the 
Church, was also one of the elect, and would welcome 
her mother and herself to that blissful abode, where 
reigns a joy that “ eye hath not seen, nor ear heard 
of.” 

Could she ever barter such a future of happiness 
for the transitory allurements of life? ’Twere folly 
incomprehensible. 

Dreading the consequences to her mother of any 
excitement or fatigue, Alice would not linger fur- 
ther. Approaching the spot where she had left the 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


11 


mourner, she found her so deeply rapt in thought that 
outward objects were evidently unnoticed. 

‘‘ Is it not time to go, mamma ? I fear you have 
overtasked your strength.” 

“Not so, Alice. I feel stronger in spirit, more 
hopeful, and happier, since I came here. Kneeling 
by your father’s grave, I have felt how glorious is the 
privilege of being anchored on that rock of salvation 
which never drifts into the shallows of doubt, but 
says, with Divine authority, ‘ I am the Resurrection 
and the Life.’ Who could falter with such an assur- 
ance ? I know my dear husband is enjoying the hap- 
piness of the blessed ; or if some imperfection still 
delays his entrance within the ivory gate from which 
every speck of defilement is excluded, I have the 
happy assurance that the day of deliverance will 
come. How narrow is the belief that would cut off 
all communion between the living and the dead from 
the moment the eyes are sealed in sleep. Kneel 
down, my child, and pray that the transgressions 
against Divine justice, unatoned for in this life, may 
be mercifully remitted, and that we may all be re- 
united in Heaven.” 

And Alice joined her mother in a prayer for her 


78 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


father’s repose and the eternal rest of the faithful. 

“ It is a holy and a wholesome thought to pray for 
the dead, that they may be loosed from their sins.” 

All our young heroine’s fears as to the effect which 
a visit to the cemetery might have on her mother’s 
health, were entirely set at rest. Mrs. Desmond, as 
she had said, was strengthened and consoled by her 
meditations ; and her apprehensions regarding the 
future gave place to a firm trust in the all-protecting 
care of Heaven. 

* * * 

‘^Mother, what is it like,” rang out Alice’s voice, 
as she entered the room with hat and gloves on. 

‘‘ What is it like ” was a favorite game with Alice 
and Gerald, and even Mrs. Desmond was sometimes 
inveigled into it. 

‘^N'ay, my dear, it is I who should put the interro- 
gatories, seeing that I am in blissful ignorance of the 
subject under consideration.” 

‘‘Well, mother, it is like a returned wanderer.” 

“Why?” 

“ Because it has at last reached its destination.” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


79 


“Your new hat, I suppose. I told you it would 
probably come to-day.” 

“ Miss the first.” 

“ TYell, Alice, what else is it like?^’ 

“It is like me.” 

“Why, pray?” 

“Because there’s a head on it.” 

“ Say a head m it, and I shall still adhere to the • 
hat.” 

“No, Mother, I can’t alter my phraseology.” 

“ Then I must again ask what is it like ? ” 

“ I think it is like Pandora’s box.” 

“ Think — why ? ” 

" Because, dear Mother, it surely contains 

“ Alice, are you speaking of your uncle’s letter ? ” 

“ You have guessed it this time, mamma, and so you 
must receive your reward. Here it is ; and I shall 
leave you to its undisturbed perusal, whilst I execute 
a commission entrusted to my immediate attention 
by Norah.” 


80 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


CHAPTER V. 

WHAT JOHN SEAFOED WROTE, AND WHAT GERALD 
BARRY SAID. 

Ten minutes have elapsed since Alice left the 
room, and still the letter lies unopened on her 
mother’s lap. Her look of abstraction would even 
lead the observer to suppose that its presence was 
entirely ignored, eagerly as its arrival had been 
looked forward to. The missive itself was indeed 
forgotten for the moment, memory having flown 
over the blue ocean, bringing her face to face with 
that brother whose last words now rang in her ears — 
‘‘You are making a heavy sacriflce for an idea; I 
fear you will yet repent it.” Would this be re- 
called in his reply to her letter? Few would have 
the magnanimity to refrain from strictures in such a 
case, and Mary Desmond knew well that if her 
brother were to give expression to his sentiments, he 
could not avoid some bitter allusions. Could she 
receive aid coldly offered, or accompanied with sneer 
or taunt ? 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


81 


“ It cannot be — J obn’s nature is not ignoble,” she 
said, taking the letter in her hand. “ If he does not 
offer Alice and myself a home, I am sure he will at 
least refrain from wantonly wounding my feelings ; 
and I have faith in his still being true to the prin- 
ciple embodied in his favorite motto, ‘iS^oblesse 
oblige.’ ” 

Hopeful as were her words, however, it was with 
a trembling hand she opened the letter, which ran 
thus : — 

“Dear Mary: — 

Your letter, announcing Mr. Desmond’s death, 
reached me last week. I am sorry for a loss which has 
occasioned you so much grief; sorry, likewise, to learn that 
you have been left in embarrassed circumstances. It was to 
be hoped that your husband, with the great abilities assigned 
him by the world, would have left a due provision for his 
wife and child. What a pity people cannot recognize earlier 
that ‘ will be ’ is certain to follow ‘ what will be ! ’ But 
enough of this. If you have nothing more definite in view 
than when you wrote last, you can consider what I now pro- 
pose. 

I am still a widower and intend remaining so. My house- 
hold is fairly managed, and my daughter’s training about as 
satisfactory as I could desire. Still, both, perhaps, would 
suffer nothing from a woman's guidance, and may be bene- 
fited by your experience and judgment. Should it suit you, 
then to make my home yours, have no hesitation m saying 


82 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


80 , and be certain of a cordial welcome. Our domestic 
arrangements will in no way be disturbed by the advent of 
you and your daughter, and any different sentiments on our 
parts need never clash. No word or act of mine shall prove 
coercive as regards your creed, and I expect the same for- 
bearance from you towards Laura. As for myself, having 
no religious Scylla to avoid, it is not likely that 1 need trim 
my sails to escape a Charybdis. 

Wishing you good health, and an agreeable voyage, I 
remain, 

Your affectionate brother, 

John Seaford.” 

Once, twice, thrice was the letter perused, and each 
time it seemed to Mary Desmond as if a weight was 
removed from her breast. The letter was truly 
characteristic of the writer — outspoken and to the 
point, but just and generous withal. He had touched 
lightly on the past, and given assurance that the ties 
of kindred would never be disregarded. “ God bless 
him, and God be thanked for his goodness ! ” ex- 
claimed the widowed mother, as she leant back in 
her chair and pictured a future in which the sombre 
tints that had lately presented themselves to her 
view were replaced by a brighter coloring. A quiet 
home, exemption from the harassing struggle for 
life’s necessaries, a more genial sun and warmer clime 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


83 


to delay, perchance to conquer, the seeds of disease 
in her system, and reserve a mother’s love and care 

for Alice till such time as But here a smile came 

involuntarily, and she said half aloud, ‘Poor little 
Alice ! I cannot conceive a period to come, when 
love and marriage will occupy her thoughts.” 

Tap ! tap ! tap ! 

She raised her head and beheld at the window the 
handsome face and pleasant smile of Gerald Barry. 

A friendly nod was duly acknowledged, and in 
another moment the young gentleman was in the 
room. 

“ Send me away if I disturb you,” he said, noticing 
the open letter. 

“ Not in the least. I have been reading a commu' 
nication from my brother.” 

“Mr. Seaford?” 

“ Yes. But sit down, pray. How does your civil 
service scheme fare ? ” 

Ah ! that is why I have broken in on you so unex- 
pectedly. I learned this morning that Sir Humphrey 
was elected member for the county by a large major- 
ity. He will how have no difficulty in fulfilling his 
promise, and I may get the summons for examination 


84 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


any day. I felt so glad that I came at once to tell 
the good news to you — and Alice.” 

Thanks. This is indeed cause for rejoicing. I 
suppose you’ll read harder than ever now ? ” 

“ I 'think I’m pretty well posted as it is. Still, of 
course, I must not let my knowledge grow rusty. 
But there is another matter ’’—here Mr. Gerald Barry 
flushed from his collar to the temples — there’s an- 
other matter, Mrs. Desmond, about which I have 
been wishing to speak for some time, and which Sir 
Humphrey’s election made me resolve to defer no 
longer, even though it be somewhat premature.” 

The young man’s manifest embarrassment, and the 
sudden stop he made, surprised his hearer — it was so 
unlike his usual easy, frank manner ; but without the 
vaguest idea of what was coming, she asked — 

“ What do you mean, Gerald ? ” and then added 
kindly, “ Is it anything I can do for you ? ” 

“Yes, indeed, Mrs. Desmond; it is something 
which you can do for me,” replied Gerald, smiling at 
his inward thoughts, and recovering his self-posses- 
sion — “You can make me very happy or very 
wretched — I have been wishing some time to tell you 
how dearly I love Alice.” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


85 


“ Alice ! my daughter !” and Mrs. Desmond gazed 
with astonishment at the speaker. 

“ Yes. I love her very, very dearly, and all my 
aims in life tend to making her my wife. I see you 
are surprised, but I trust, dear Mrs. Desmond, you 
will favor my suit.” 

“ But, Gerald, I never thought of such a thing as 
marriage, connected with Alice ; she is but a child.” 

“ Why, really, Mrs. Desmond, I don’t know,” he_« 
stammered out, “ I thought she was seventeen.” 

‘‘She is seventeen, sir; but you surely must con-- 
sider her far too young ?” 

“ I scarcely think, my dear Mrs. Desmond, the^ 

* 

world would agree with me, even if I did; make an, 
assertion so sweeping.” 

“And, besides, Mr. Barry,” continued the lady,, 
who felt rather overwhelmed by the nonchalance of 
his last remark, “how could you live? How would 
you be able to support Alice ? The world may sanc- 
tion marriage at seventeen, it is true; but it also re- 
quires from the husband something more tangible 
than love and kisses.” 

The lady had recovered composure by this time,, 
while the gentleman began to fear he was losing 


86 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


ground. His was hardly a disposition, however, to 
lose a fair lady through faint-heartedness ; so pluck- 
ing up courage, he said — 

‘‘ Even at present, Mrs. Desmond, I can give my 
wife something more substantial than those well- 
abused intangibilities — my income, as it is ” 

‘‘Is a very precarious one, my dear Gerald, and 
may, from the nature of your profession, fail at any 
time.” 

“ But income from nine sources out of ten must be 
more or less precarious ; and I flatter myself that if 
health, brain, and a strong arm, have might in this 
world, Alice need not fear trusting herself to my 
care. Don’t be too hard on me, Mrs. Desmond,” 
continued the young fellow, in a voice which moved 
his auditor in spite of her judgment ; “ I can support 
Alice now. I am alone in the world, and if I cannot 
give you both the luxuries of life, I can at least al- 
ways continue to keep the wolf far from the door.” 

“ Have you spoken of this to Alice ? ” asked the 
lady, after a short pause. 

“ No — not a word as yet.” 

Mrs. Desmond walked to the window and consid- 
ered for a minute or two. She finally advanced to 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


87 


Barry, and handed him John Seaford’s letter. 

“ Read this, if you please, and tell me what you 
think.” 

‘‘ I think, madam,” said Gerald, after reading the 
letter and returning it, “ I’ll see Alice and plead my 
own cause ; ” and he rose hastily to go. 

‘‘Stop a moment, Gerald. You have hitherto 
acted with much candor and straightforwardness, 
and it is but fair that you should meet a like return.” 

A pause ensued, after which Mrs. Desmond re- 
sumed — 

“ I can hardly expect a young man to understand 
the feelings which actuate me. Only a mother could. 
While entertaining the highest regard for you, — I 
may even say, while loving you as my son, — 1 still 
see many reasons, my dear Gerald, against the mar- 
riage you contemplate. My daughter is young, 
young in years and in experience ; your income is at 
present slender, and will always he derived from a 
precarious source. What supports you now respect- 
ably, and leaves, perhaps, a surplus each year, would, 
with the strictest economy, hardly suffice for the 
wants of two. I’ll not allude now to a triple bur- 
den,” — this with a smile — “ though I fully appreciate 


88 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


your kindness of heart, and thank you for it. Are 
not these grave obligations ? Obligations to be seri- 
ously considered by even a lover ; how very grave 
must they then appear to a mother’s heart ? ” 

“ But if Alice loves me, and is willing ? ” faintly 
spoke Barry, who felt each argument crushing when 
put in a tone he recognized as evidently kind and 
sincere. 

“ That is the point I am coming to,” said Mrs. 
Desmond. “You say that you have not yet men- 
tioned this to Alice. Will you then keep silent a lit- 
tle longer ? I will show her my brother’s letter to- 
day, and after that, will communicate your proposal. 
It is but fitting that the child should first hear it from 
my lips ; and should I find her love to be such as you 
hope, rest assured I will offer no obstacle to your 
union.” 

“You are goodness itself, dear Mrs. Desmond!” 
gasped the young man, as he wrung her hand. 
“ But please tell her that I love her very much ; ” 
and taking up his hat he left the room. 

He had hardly gone twenty yards from the door 
when he met Alice returning from some shopping 
excursion, and greetings were exchanged between 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


89 


the two. Mrs. Desmond, possessed of Barry’s secret, 
and anxious to know her daughter’s feelings on the 
matter, eagerly watched the meeting. The distance 
was too great, however, to note much ; but a certain 
shyness of demeanor and drooping of the face on 
Alice’s part, made the mother shake her head and 
sigh audibly. 

“ Poor child ! ” she murmured ; so early ! Have I 
done right in promising Gerald what I did ? But if 
she loves him ! If she loves him ! ” 

At the end of half an hour Alice entered the room 
where her mother sat. Barry had but spoken some 
few words to her concerning his expected summons 
for examination, but there had been an undefined 
something in his tones and looks that had caused the 
young heart of our heroine to thrill strongly and 
gladly. Possibly it was this which had delayed her so 
long in her bedroom; possibly it was this which 
made her brighter, more beautiful than usual. 

‘‘There, now, mother,” said she, “I’ve done all 
your commissions; and Miss Collins says she will 
positively have your dress and my hat finished this 
day week. It must be to save her credit that she 
pronounces the word ‘ positive-lie ! ’ And ever so 


90 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


many have been inquiring after you — Mr. Antig, Mr. 
Draper, Doctor O’Gorman, and a host of others. 
You must not feel too flattered, though; for Mr. Dra- 
per said he’d like you to see some new silks he has 
lately got in; and Doctor O’Gorman’s ‘How does 
your mother feel now. Miss Desmond?’ was asked 
so sympathizingly that I had hard work to persuade 
myself you were feeling better, and dim thoughts of 
offering half a guinea to the Doctor crossed my 
brain. He was just as cordial as ever, though, when I 
said your health was pretty good; so, on the whole, 
you may put him down as a disinterested admirer,” 
“Yes, my dear, I am feeling pretty well to-da}^,” 
said the mother. “But sit down. I want you to 
read this letter from your uncle.” 

“ Oh, to be sure ! You see, mother, it did come at 
last,” exclaimed Alice, beginning to read the letter 
straightway. Her interest deepened gradually, and 
the widow was not slow to notice how her daughter’s 
fingers fluttered a little towards the end. 

“Well, Alice, what do you think?” asked she. 

“ I think, mother, you have described uncle to the 
letter. He appears a matter-of-fact, practical sort of 
man, not troubled by much religion, but evidently 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


91 


warm in his good wishes, and sincere in his 
proposal.” 

This was not exactly an answer to the question 
running through the mother’s mind, so she said — 

‘‘And how would you like accepting his offer of 
a home?” 

The reply came quietly enough — too quietly. 

“What pleases you, mother, will he sure to 
please me.” 

Mrs. Desmond remained silent. Presently, Alice 
came and encircled her waist. 

“And how does it please you, mother dear? 
Would you like to go ? ” 

“ It would suit me very well, Alice,— would please 
me, if I thought my darling would leave nothing 
behind.” 

“ What do you mean, mother ? ” with a little flush 
the words came. 

“ Were all those you met to-day my disinterested 
admirers ? ” 

Deeper came the flush, lower bent the head, as 
Mrs. Desmond revealed Gerald Barry’s declaration 
of love. At its end, Alice’s arms were round her 


92 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


mother’s neck, and her face was hidden on her 
breast. 

And now, my dear child,” resumed the mother, 
‘‘ tell me if you love him ? ” 

‘‘ I do, mother, — I do love him,” repeated the girl 
softly. “And you — do not you love him also ?” 

“ Yes, my dear; I think Gerald Barry a good man 
and a good Christian. But poverty, my child, 
begets hard struggles and temptations, and Gerald’s 
means are not large.” 

“ ‘He that is honored in poverty, is honored in 
riches,’ you know, mother,” smiled Alice; “and ‘a 
merry heart hath a continual feast.’ ” 

She was the gay, cheerful little Alice again. Her 
mother smiled, and said — 

“ But such a foe as poverty, Alice, is very apt to 
sour the heart and mar the feast. However, you 
must not think me a croaker. With content and 
economy you and Gerald may live happily together, 
and things may improve with you both.” 

“ Of course, mother dear, things will improve, and 
Gerald, with his abilities, cannot help getting along 
in time. But you said ‘You and Gerald,’ whereas 
you ought to have said ‘ I, you, and Gerald.’ ” 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


93 


Mrs. Desmond shook her head. 

“ Why, what can you mean, mother ? ” and Alice 
opened her eyes wide with surprise. 

‘‘You forget, Alice, that Gerald’s income does not, 
at the best, amount to over eighty pounds a year.” 

“ Well ? ” 

“ And such will prove little enough for you two, 
without the additional burden of an invalid.” 

“ Why, mother, what do you mean ? ” 

“This; that your uncle’s letter points out the 
means of securing your happiness and Gerald’s. I 
can emigrate, and thus insure ” 

“No! no! mother,” cried Alice, now thoroughly 
conscious of her mother’s intended sacrifice. “ You 
must not — must not — think of such a thing.” 

“Calm yourself, Alice; I am resolved ” 

“Then, I’m resolved too; and if you emigrate, I 
go also.” 

The pale spirituelle face denoted a good deal of 
resolution, and Mrs. Desmond wavered. But she 
thought that as yet she had not done her duty. So 
she took the girl’s hand in hers, and sought to hide 
the real sacrifice she was making by speaking lightly 
of the separation, by descanting on the benefit which 


94 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


the voyage and warmer climate would work on her 
health, and by the pleasure she would feel when she 
could visit Alice next year with renewed strength. 
She did not even fail to tempt her by drawing a 
pretty home picture. But still Alice was not con- 
vinced, and before returning to her room, her last 
words, broken with sobs, were ‘‘ mother, you cannot 
— shall not — must not go I ” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


95 


CHAPTER YI. 

ALICE Desmond’s “non possumus.” 

Little more was said during dinner concerning 
the morning’s conversation, yet it was evident 
that Mrs. Desmond was earnest in her resolve. 
An idea, however, presented itself, which Alice 
hoped would he productive of good, and this she 
forthwith proceeded to put into execution. She 
called on the pastor of Avonmore, and detailed the 
entire circumstances, concluding with, “ 'Now, 
Father Walsh, I want you to see mother this even- 
ing, and prevail on her to abandon all thoughts of 
going to the States. You must tell her how easily 
and how comfortably we can all live here togeiner, 
and ” 

“ Butj my dear child,” interrupted Father Walsh, 
“ are you certain of that ? Remember, that your 
mother is both old and experienced, and would not 
inconsiderately advise you to anything wrong.” 

“But she can’t be right in this. Father; and if she 
be, why then — then it must be my duty to go with 
her;” and the tears rose in Alice’s eyes. 


96 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


“Not necessarily, my child. But there; don’t 
worry any more, and I’ll see your mother this 
evening.” 

He accordingly did, and when Alice thought he 
had concluded the conversation, she entered the 
room to arrange the tea-table. 

Father Walsh had divined pretty well the motives 
which were actuating Mrs. Desmond, and the subse- 
quent conversation confirmed his conjectures. His 
practical knowledge of life, earned by many years’ 
toil, amid its busiest and most hidden scenes, made 
him perceive and acquiesce in the reasons and resolu- 
tion of the mother. Now, too, for the first time, did 
he fully learn how precarious was Mrs. Desmond’s 
health, and her fearo that the disease was progress- 
ing. Thoroughly did he understand her entire abne- 
gation of self, and the pang it would cause to part 
with her child for the child’s welfare. But to mortal 
ken, her plan seemed best. True it was that an 
exalted sense of duty and religion would induce a 
daughter to forego the ties of love and cleave to her 
parents ; but the priest knew that such exaltation is 
not required from weak humanity in general, and 
that every sacrifice, to carry a corresponding blessing 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


97 


with it, ought to be spontaneous, and prompted by 
the Giver of all good. 

Yes, the widow’s plan seemed best, and Father 
W alsh resolved to speak in support of it. 

“And now. Father Walsh,” said Alice, handing 
him his tea-cup, “I hope you have persuaded this 
naughty mamma of mine that three people can live 
happily together, and given her a lecture for enter- 
taining so criminal a love for the United States.” 

“ But what becomes, then, of the old proverb that 
‘only two’s company’? And as for blaming her 
about the ‘United States’” continued he, with a. 
laugh, “remember, it is dangerous to throw stones, 
when you have a glass house of your own.’* 

“ Only two ’s company, indeed ! ” exclaimed Alice, 
ignoring the latter portion of his reply, save by a 
blush. “Where’s your classical knowledge gone. 
Father? Did not the three Graces live together, 
and the three — three ” 

“ Three Furies,” interposed his Reverence, with 
another laugh, seeing that the speaker had stopped, 
at a loss for another happy exemplification of tria 
juncta in uno. “I’m afraid, Alice, the classics are 
against you.” 


98 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


“Well, I’ll admit my defeat, provided you say 
‘ Veni, Vidi, Yici,’ and I’ll give you a lump of sugar 
in your tea for each word.” 

“The laborer is worthy of his hire,” is he not, 
Mrs. Desmond? So here goes. ‘Veni.’” 

Lump of sugar number one, was dropped into his 
tea. 

“Vidi.” He was rewarded with a second. 

“ And now,” added the priest, as the sugar tongs 
held the third lump suspended over his cup, “ unless 
of your charity you bestow the third, I cannot claiin 
it.” 

“Why?” 

“Because, instead of saying ‘Vici,’ I am afraid I 
must say ‘Victus Sum.’” 

“Oh! Father Walsh, you cannot mean that you 
have failed? Mother, say you have not refused.” 

The tears started to the girl’s eyes, and in her agi- 
tation the priest’s tea obtained the lump he had not 
earned. 

“Calm yourself, Alice,” replied Mrs. Desmond, 
“Father Walsh and I have talked long and seriously 
over the matter, and he is entirely of my way of 
thinking.” 


A TALE TN- TWO LANDS. 


99 


“Yes,” said the priest ; “I think, all things consid- 
ered, your mother is right, Alice, and that her plans 
for you both are most feasible. Gerald Barry’s 
income is small, and requires to be husbanded. If 
your mother’s health can be recuperated, and her 
anxiety to see an only brother satisfied, by a visit to 
the States, that need not materially interfere with 
your marriage. I^ay, you can even have the 
pleasure meanwhile of looking forward to the time 
you may see her again, when recovered strength 
on her part, and pecuniary circumstances on your 
own, may well forbid any further separation.” 

Some desultory conversation ensued, after which 
Father Walsh arose. Placing his hand on Alice’s 
head, before his departure, he said, kindly, “God 
bless you, child, and direct you as a true Christian, 
and a good daughter!” 

A severe struggle was that which occupied Alice’s 
soul this evening — a struggle which was continued 
in the privacy of her chamber. One of the three 
alternatives had been tried, and found unavailing; 
only two now stared her in the face. Would she 
marry Gerald, and let her mother go? Would she 
accompany her mother and abandon her lover? 


100 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Which will she do? Which — which — which? 

To such of our readers as may smile at our hero- 
ine’s perplexity, and say, “I know what I would 
do — I would marry Gerald,” it may be necessary to 
state that Alice had been brought up in some ways 
differently from girls of her age. Her classical lore 
had magnified her ideas of all virtues, true love and 
filial affection among the number. Thus, she re- 
quired Philaeni for her Carthage, a Pylades for her 
Orestes, a Thisbe for her Pyramis, and an JEneas 
for her Anchises. The parental tie also had been of 
the closest, partaking of unbounded love and unre- 
strained intimacy. 'Nor could she listen to argu- 
ments on one side only, protecting the other ear with 
cotton ; the mathematical and logical training of the 
Professor told here, and forbade any such pleasing 
stratagem. Reason out the matter fairly she should ; 
but, alas ! a Bithus started up for every Bacchius. 

Poor little thing ! With what was she struggling? 

Barry loved her — and often as the thought crossed 
her mind a transport of joy succeeded ; her mother, 
Father Walsh, had both sanctioned their loves and 
advised their marriage. Surely they would not ad- 
vise her to do wrong ? The nature of the one, the 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


101 


profession of the other, forbade harboring such con- 
jectures. 

With what then was she struggling ! 

But the impatient jerk was of no avail, and she 
commenced pacing the room. Yes ; there on the 
table lay her work-box, the first present from her 
mother; — ^but on it was placed a copy of Gerald 
Griffin’s poems — ^Barry’s gift. There was the album 
given by Mrs. Desmond on her last birth-day ; but 
she knew whose lines, written on the fiy-leaf, made it 
doubly precious. 

The very associations in the room seemed at strife; 
and so the struggle went on — on — till finally she pro- 
ceeded to her mother’s room, intent on making one 
more appeal, of getting comfort somehow, — if from 
nothing else, at least from her own unaided efforts 
with her thoughts. As she neared the chamber she 
heard her mother speaking as if in prayer, and she 
caught the words — ‘‘Holy Mother of God, guide my 
dear child in her new life, guard her against troubles 
and temptations, and should my days be shortened by 
this disease, and we be permitted to meet no more 
on earth, console and watch over her ! ” 

Alice hesitated for a moment, and then retreated 


102 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


softly to her own room. A great quietness came 
over her, and she involuntarily repeated “ May God 
direct me, as a true Christian and a good daughter ! ” 

They were the last words which Father Walsh, as 
if by inspiration, had addressed to her ! 

Early next day Gerald Barry called at the house, 
and on asking to see Miss Desmond, was ushered into 
the room where Alice sat alone. She had expected 
this interview and awaited it all the morning, with a 
strange mixture of longing and of dread. Both 
exhibited some symptoms of nervousness, — the gen- 
tleman more especially, as having to take the initia- 
tive. When the customary greetings and inquiries 
had been made, a pause ensued, which the lady 
devoted to some netting in her hands, and Barry to 
thinking how he should commence. 

‘‘Alice,” said he at last, “I had a conversation 
with your mother on yesterday, the subject matter 
of which, I trust, is not now unknown to you. But 
in this case you’ll forgive repetition, will you not — 
and let me tell you how long and how dearly I love 
you? Yes, Alice,” and he took her hand in his, 
“very long and very, very dearly. To-day I have 
come to tell you all this,— though you must have 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


103 


known it long before, — and to ask you to become my 
wife.” 

He noted her agitation and augured favorably 
from it ; but her reply struck him like a thunderbolt. 

“ Oh, Gerald ! please stop, — I cannot, cannot 
marry you.” 

“ Cannot marry me ! ” and he dropped her hand in 
surprise ; “ Why ? ” 

“ Because — ^because — I cannot.” 

“ A remarkable reason, to be sure ! ” replied the 
suitor pleasantly enough ; “but it fails to enlighten 
me much. Alice, I cannot have taken you by sur- 
prise ; my words and looks ought to have long since 
told you the secret, even if Mrs. Desmond had not 
already made you aware of it. Do you not believe 
that I love you ? ” 

Those beautiful blue eyes were raised to his with 
a glance of confidence, and “Yes” was plainly writ- 
ten on the face whose lips uttered it not. 

“Well, darling, and now I ask ‘Do not you love 

me?’” 

Ho answer came, and even the eyes, which had 
momentarily restored confidence, were hidden from 
his gaze. 


104 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


“I see how it is,” said Barry bitterly, “I thought 
Mrs. Desmond my friend, and she has pleaded for- 
me with a vengeance.” 

“ No, no, you wrong her ; indeed you do, Gerald,” 
cried the girl ; ‘‘Mother esteems and loves you very 
much, and every word she said was in your favor.” 

“But, still, she objected to your marrying a poor 
man.” 

“Indeed, no; both she and Father Walsh urged 
your request strongly, and are your fast friends.” 

“Well, then, the objections must be all on your 
side.” 

A sudden thought struck his mind. 

“Tell me, Alice, has your uncle’s letter — Mrs. 
Desmond allowed me to read it yesterday — has Mr. 
Seaford anything to do with this ? ” 

“We intend accepting his offer and going to the 
States.” 

“Ah! that is it!” exclaimed Barry, savagely. 
“ A wider sphere for conquests like mine, probably . 
And the hope of higher and richer ones prompt you 
to furnish so solid a reason as — ‘ I cannot ! ’ ” 

“ Oh, Gerald ! why do you — how can you wrong 
me so cruelly ? ” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


105 


The tears rose in the girl’s eyes , and she spoke 
reproachfully, forgiving him the hitter words, 
through consciousness of the suffering she was forced 
to inflict. 

‘‘ But, good heavens, Alice ! what am I to think ? 
What can I think ? I ask you to be my wife ; your 
mother and Father Walsh acquiesce in and press 
my request. You refuse giving, or you cannot give 
a single sensible reason — a reason at all, for that 
matter ! ” 

He was pacing the room during this remark, feel- 
ing completely nonplussed. He faced her at the 
conclusion, with a look which made his last words an 
interrogation. 

‘‘My mother’s health is not good,” cried Alice 
desperately, feeling sorry immediately that she had 
ventured on ground she had forbidden to herself. 

“And will our marriage make it worse? Or will 
the trouble and fatigue of a long sea voyage 
improve it ? ” He took her hand again. “ For God’s 
sake, be sensible, Alice ; and if you are actuated by 
any exaggerated ideas, do not let them influence you 
now. Consent to what 1 ask — to what your mother 


106 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


and best friend have advised. You know I love you 
Will you not say the same to me ? ” 

Alice sank on a chair, and utterly overcome, cried 
out “Leave me — do, pray, leave me ! Oh, Gerald! 
Gerald ! forgive me for causing you such pain, — but 
I cannot — cannot marry you ! ” 

The sobs came freely, and the poor girl’s frame 
shook visibly from emotion. Barry took his hat and 
left the room, pitying, angry, and thoroughly per- 
plexed. 

The struggle was over. Duty had vanquished, 
— the true Christian and good daughter had come 
out victorious. In her room the previous night Alice 
had prayed, — ^prayed, perhaps, as she had never 
prayed before ; prayed that her mother might be 
long spared to her, and that she herself might have 
strength to resist all temptations to part from that 
mother, and the happiness of consoling her last 
hours in life. 

The hardest temptation of all was that of leaving 
Gerald in doubt as to her love for him. But what 
would it avail either if she confessed the depth of 
her affection ? They must separate, perhaps to 
meet no more ; and besides, her modest nature 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


107 


shrank from revealing her love to a man whom she 
could not wed. No ; even in the misery she felt 
after Barry left, she told herself that she had acted 
and spoken for the best, and resolved, come what 
would, to adhere to the course she had marked out. 

And she did ; for though Gerald made renewed 
efforts to alter her design, and Mrs. Desmond 
endeavored to second his remonstrances, Alice firmly 
yet gently, set their entreaties aside and said it 
could not be. Neither did she speak, act, and move 
about as if she were a martyr ; her cross was taken 
up silently and borne cheerfully, and even her 
mother could detect no vestige of melancholy or 
sadness of demeanor after a few days’ lapse. 

9|C « ♦ ♦ * * 

One day, in the sunny month of July, two vessels 
lay side by side some quarter of a mile or so from 
Queenstown Harbor. One was the steamer 
“Vulture,” bound for New York ; the other a tender, 
which had just brought on board the passengers and 
mail for the New World. The preparations are 
complete — ^the bell sounds — the whistle blows — 


108 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


bigger and blacker clouds of smoke rise like giants 
from the funnels, and the two vessels separate amid 
parting cheers and the wild waving of handkerchiefs. 

On board “The Vulture” were Alice Desmond 
and her mother; leaning over the bulwark of the 
tender, and waving their adieus to the last,, were 
Father Walsh and Gerald Barry. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


loa 


CHAPTER VII. 

OVEB THE ATLANTIC. A MEETING AND A PAKTHTO. 

After seeing the last outline of her native shore 
recede from view, Alice turned her gaze on the 
broad expanse of sky and water that formed the 
horizon, and a mingled feeling of interest and awe 
took possession of her mind. Tusker Light had 
thrown its last gleam over the mighty deep, which 
now lay in unruffled majesty before her — scarcely & 
ripple agitated its waters, extending as far as the eye 
could reach to the blue canopy that overarched thei;? 
surface. It seemed like a picture of her future life,, 
from which the last bright ray had been shut out,, 
leaving her on a vast, untried ocean, looking smooths 
indeed for the present, yet it might be that storms- 
and dangers should be encountered before the haven 
of refuge was gained. The blue sky, however, 
would always encompass the dread abyss — this she 
would look up to when the clouds darkened, and the 
angry waves threatened destruction. 

Whilst Alice mused thus, other reflections passed 


110 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


through her mother’s mind. To her the ocean was 
not a new acquaintance. She had before seen the 
placid front and the angry frown of old Father 
Neptune; and memory carried her back to the 
Bellerophon, on whose deck she was again stand- 
ing, with bright hopes for the future, and loving trust 
in the grave scholar who stood beside her. Had the 
hopes been fulfilled? Was the trust misplaced? 
Should her life be called a failure ? Her life indeed 
was then in its dark phase, nevertheless she felt that 
much of the bright sunshine had visited her home in 
Avonmore. The heart she had won had never 
wavered in its devotion; an honored name and a 
heritage of talent had been bequeathed to her 
beloved child, who was her comfort in every sorrow. 
Could the fickle love of an ignoble mind, though 
attended with all the trappings of wealth, give more 
of happiness? She would not make the exchange. 

The individual purposes of existence can never be 
determined until all is recorded, and good or evil can 
no longer make the balance of judgment incline to 
this side or to that. Mrs. Desmond’s page yet wants 
some lines in the Book of Life, and we must 
therefore suspend judgment on the third question. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


Ill 


To return to the Yulture. All meditations were 
interrupted by the signal for dinner, which was 
followed by an immediate skurrying from the deck 
and a scramble for places. Our heroine and her 
mother chanced to be seated near Captain Semmes, a 
thorough-going seaman, whose father had been in the 
war of 1812 , and was engaged in the action between 
the Peacock and the British man-of-war, Nautilus, in 
which the American flag was victorious. This being 
the closing scene in the war. Captain Semmes loved 
to descant on the theme, and noticed with evident 
gratification the pleasure with which the ladies 
listened to his recital of those ‘‘ moving accidents by 
flood and field,” in which his father had been a 
prominent actor. To Mrs. Desmond everything 
relating to her native land had gained redoubled 
interest by her long absence from its shores, and 
Alice enjoyed the graphic narratives of the good- 
natured and enthusiastic seaman. 

The Captain soon discovered that one of his 
passengers was returning to her native land after 
twenty years’ absence, and this took his favor and 
friendship by storm. He waxed eloquent over the 
go-ahead Republic, which could beat all creation— 


112 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


‘‘had done it too, ma’am, and was ready to pitch 
into every Britisher again, as we did in the Straits of 
Sunda;” and in a burst of pride and good feeling 
he brought the ladies from stem to stern of the 
Vulture, pointing out its trim shape and goodly 
proportions, and expatiating on the great improve- 
ments in steam navigation since Mrs. Desmond had 
trod the deck of the Bellerophon. 

Thus the first three days of the voyage passed 
pleasantly, and the fresh sea breeze seemed to have a 
wonderfully exhilarating effect on passengers and 
crew; but as life on land is made up of sunshine and 
showers, so life at sea has its calms and its storms, 
and the latter came with startling suddenness. 

There is a merry gathering in the saloon after 
supper. Here a knot of politicians are arguing the 
merits of rival candidates for ofiice. This rubicund 
gentleman, who looks as if he were on excellent terms 
with the world in general, is proclaiming his 
favorite “the greatest reformer of the day, sir;” 
whilst his lank, sallow-faced opponent pronounces 
the reformer “ a cheat, a hypocrite, and a traitor to 
the best interests of the country, sir.” History 
repeats itself, as we find in this year of grace, 1877 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


113 


At one of the tables a party are evidently ignoring 
the name of “ whist” in their excited argument over 
some contested point in the game. In this corner 
Phyllis holds Damon entranced by her dulcet tones; 
and in the opposite direction is an elderly gentleman 
who loots up testily from the paper which he has 
been making vain efforts to peruse; he finally lays it 
down in evident disgust, casting a cynical look on 
those whom he singles out as the prime offenders 
against his organs of sight and sound. It is lost on 
both. 

“Oh! there’s nothing half so sweet in life as Love’s 
young dream” — and as Phyllis sings, Damon re- 
echoes the words, and cries encore.^'* 

Hark ! what sound was that ? A heavy lurch is 
followed by a crash louder than before. All is silent 
now — the song hushed, the debate suspended. How 
trifling the minor concerns of life seem, when the 
storm, with voice’ of thunder, proclaims the existence 
of a power before which man’s courage, strength, 
and skill must bow in submission ! 

Boom! The sound comes over the ocean with 
alarming distinctness. There is a hurried trampling 
on deck, the straining of cordage, and above the din 


114 


THE JOINT VENTURE, 


is heard the Captain’s voice shouting orders through 
his speaking trumpet. 

Two hours of anxious watch below, in which hearts 
throb painfully. How many life-sketches were 
drawn in those two hours, and what softening tints 
were added to pictures whose colors lately appeared 
blurred and indistinct ! How many aims and aspira- 
tions loomed up, where a little while back all seemed 
a dreary, hopeless monotony ! How bright with the 
warm hues of affection was that home in which the 
spirit had pined like a caged eagle ! Would the 
tempest that rent the Vulture’s sails also destroy the 
canvas of fancy’s portraiture? 

A few minutes more and a head is seen on the 
companion stairs. 

“What cheer?” 

“Safe — the storm has spent itself. The Vulture 
weathered the gale nobly.” 

“What meant that signal gun?” 

“ A sailing vessel in distress ; her rigging is gone, 
and she seems to be water-logged.” 

The announcement caused a rush to the deck, when 
it was found that the storm was indeed lulled, 
though the sea still ran in heavy swells, and lurid 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


115 


flashes at intervals lit up the inky blackness of the 
sky. 

In one of those gleams a dark object was discov- 
ered two points to leeward of the Vulture, and from 
this direction had come the signal of distress. Hark! 
another gun tells of danger ; and now the heavy 
clouds are rolling off, the moon sends a glimmer over 
the waters, and two boats are seen plowing their 
way towards the Vulture, which has tacked round to 
meet them. 

There is an interval of suspense, and all watch 
with bated breath as the turbid waves seem ever and 
anon about to swallow up the frail barks with their 
living freight. The spray dashes over them, and 
they rock on the troubled deep, but still they are 
steadily nearing the ship’s side — a few minutes more 
and they will be safe. Look ! how that mountain 
mass of water threatens the smaller boat. Horror ! 
it has struck her bow, and all are engulfed in 
the black abyss, doubly black now, for the moon is 
again obscured. 

“Man the life-boat,” shouts Captain Semmes, and 
the command is instantly obeyed, 

“Here is a stout swimmer — quick! a life-buoy — 


116 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


he has caught it— he is safe. That one is struggling 
hard to gain the boat— they are pulling towards him 
—a floating spar seems to have struck his head— he 
is under the waves ! — no, there he is again, striking 
out for the boat— they see him— hurrah! hurrah! 
See that man to leeward— they have sighted him, too 
— another — and another — and another — thank God, 
all are saved.” 

By Divine mercy all had indeed been rescued from 
the jaws of death ; and the crew and passengers of 
the disabled ship were soon comfortably ensconced 
on board the Vulture, showing their full appreciation 
of Captain Semmes’ hospitality. 

The Helene was a sailing vessel which had left the 
port of Havre a fortnight before, bound for New 
York. She was heavily laden with oil and silk ; but 
fortunately, as it would seem, she carried only a few 
passengers. Owing to over-lading, and some defect 
in her build, she had become water-logged ; and 
though the storm had been weathered, it was evident 
the Helene could never reach port. It was with no 
small satisfaction, therefore, that her Captain and 
crew hailed the Vulture; and though it caused the 
brave sailor much regret to abandon his ship and 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


117 


cargo, nevertheless no time was lost in exchanging 
from the doomed vessel to the steamer. When all 
were safe on deck, the boats were again manned by 
a party on both sides to bring off the most valuable 
portion of the cargo. This was successfully a«com- 
plished ; and to prevent the danger of collision with 
another ship, the Helene was set fire to, and those 
on board the Vulture saw the curling fiames shoot- 
ing upwards for a moment, and a bright light 
appeared on the waters, marking the funeral pyre of 
the Helene. 

Whilst the incidents just narrated were occurring, 
Mrs. Desmond and Alice retired to the cabin, and 
after offering up a prayer for all on board the 
Vulture, both calmly awaited the issue. On learn- 
ing that the storm had subsided, our heroine, like the 
other passengers, would have gone on deck, but her 
mother’s nervous system had suffered a severe shock, 
and a fainting fit ensued. In the general commotion 
on board, all being intent on the movements of the 
Helene, it was impossible to summon assistance ; so 
Alice could only watch and wait until her mother 
regained consciousness. It was a long time before 
Mrs. Desmond revived ; then, feeling the necessity 


118 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


of administering restoratives, Alice hastened on 
deck, hoping to see the stewardess, or the doctor. 
The latter was -there, but another patient claimed 
his attention — the man who had been struck by the 
floating spar, and afterwards picked up by the crew 
of the life-boat. Bending over him was a young 
girl, whose expressions of grief, uttered in French, 
betokened a warm attachment for the man, who was 
now insensible to her passionate embraces. 

“ II n’est pas mort — il vivra pour moi,” — she said, 
looking at the doctor, with a face half pleading, and 
half in defiance of any opinion that would deprive 
her of hope. 

The doctor evidently did not understand her 
words, but he divined their meaning ; and, placing 
his finger again on the man’s pulse, he smiled, and 
nodded reassuringly. 

“ Comme vous etes un ange, monsieur ! ” exclaimed 
the girl, with all the warmth of feeling peculiar to 
her nation ; to which the doctor replied by another 
.smile of assent. 

Seeing she could get no help, for the present, Alice 
returned to her mother, and tried what her own skill 
would effect. She had not much reason to congratU' 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


119 


late herself on the result, for another fainting fit 
succeeded ; but, happily, the stewardess was now at 
hand to give aid. With all the care lavished on her, 
the invalid did not appear to regain strength, and 
the rough weather, which continued several days 
after the storm, caused her to experience the worst 
horrors of that dreadful malady, sea-sickness. No 
one but a nervous sufferer can realize the sensations 
of a tortured victim confined in one of those pent- 
houses, facetiously called state-rooms, racked with 
headache, and cast about ruthlessly from one side 
of the narrow couch to the other, with every motion 
of the ship. 

Poor Alice felt wretched in witnessing her moth- 
er’s suffering, without any possibility of alleviating 
it. The kind-hearted doctor tried to cheer her by 
saying, in a pleasant voice, when he made his usual 
morning call — “ Don’t he down-hearted, young lady ; 
your mother will get through it bravely; sea-sickness 
does not kill any one ” — ^hut the patient’s pallid face, 
and throbbing brow, did not give effect to this 
assurance. 

The boisterous weather tried the temper of the 
stewardess, as well as of those who required her 


120 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


attention, and Alice liad just come to the conclusion 
that modern voyagers, as well as early navigators, 
need “ strength and triple brass ” in a trans-atlantic 
trip, when, to the general satisfaction, the weather 
cleared, and the Vulture was again gliding smoothly 
over the surface of the tranquil waves. As soon as 
Mrs. Desmond could leave the cabin, she requested to 
be helped on deck, and how gladly she inhaled the 
pure sea breeze, after her weary confinement. Shel- 
tered under an awning, all sense of pain and weari- 
ness gone, a light zephyr fanning her cheek, and 
imparting an unwonted buoyancy of spirits, she 
seemed to be in another existence, as she watched 
the blue sky occasionally fiecked by a gossamer 
cloud, and the glassy crest of ocean, rippled by some 
sportive dolphin, or by the sea-gull skimming the 
crest of the waves, and she recalled the song of 
Nourmahal — 

“And oh! if there be an elysium on earth, it is 
this, it is this.” 

Her reverie was interrupted by a hearty “Good 
morning, madam ; happy to see you on deck again.” 

It was Captain Semmes who thus greeted his coum 
try- woman’s reappearance. Mrs. Desmond returned 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


121 


the friendly salutation, with a remark on the beauty 
of the scene before them. 

“Yes, madam, this is life, the true elixir. The 
old alchemists wasted their time in seeking for it on 
land — had they thought of distilling the fluid fur- 
nished by Father Neptune, they might now be 
taking a voyage aboard the Vulture.” 

“Unless their experiences were more agreeable 
than mine. Captain, they might not think this an 
inducement to return from the land of shades.” 

“I see how one loses ballast by being cooped up 
among the Britishers. My dear madam, if you hadl 
spent the last twenty years under the Stars and^ 
Stripes, you would now be a regular old salt — able 
to keep your ground like any free-born American 
citizen.” 

“ True, Captain Semmes, I am not so good a sailor 
as I was twenty years ago; but you must confess the 
late storm might well shake the nerves of any lands- 
man. How happily you came to the rescue of the 
Helene!” 

“Yes, they might all have gone to Davy Jones’ 
locker had not the Vulture hove in sight.” 

“ All were saved, 1 understand.” 


122 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


“ Every man — and the woman too, for there was 
one aboard.” 

“ Only one ! Is she married ? ” 

“ There seems some mystery about it. She and a 
man named Guerenne were the only cabin passengers 
on the Helene, and there seemed to be a relationship 
between them. When the man was brought aboard 
the Vulture, the young woman took on about him 
so that we thought she must be his wife; but after 
recovering, he parried all inquiries regarding her. 
None of our people understand her gibberish.” 

Alice, who was sitting by her mother during the 
foregoing dialogue, remembered the girl’s impas- 
sioned words, whilst the man who must be the 
Guerenne spoken of by the Captain, lay unconscious. 
She did not, however, deem it advisable to say 
anything about the matter then; and as the Captain 
was here called off, the conversation ended. 

The weather continued favorable during the 
remainder of the voyage; and no incident broke the 
ordinary routine, save an episode in which Guerenne 
and his companion were the prominent actors. 

In the afternoon of the day before which they 
expected to land, Mrs. Desmond and Alice had taken 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


123 


possession of their favorite places on deck, where 
they were p'artly screened from observation. The 
former was meditating on a passage in Lignori, 
whilst our heroine was building fancy fabrics, as in 
days of yore. Suddenly strange voices struck on 
their ears, one evidently speaking in her native 
tongue, and the other endeavoring to make himself 
understood in very indifferent French, which we shall 
•take the liberty of translating into English. 

‘‘Well, Julie, you will soon see the American 
coast.” 

“And la belle France will be further off — poor 
me ! I may never see it again.” 

“What matter? You will find room enough and 
people enough here.” 

“Too much room — too many people. I shall be 
afraid, and wish we were back again in Normandy.” 

“Nonsense! You could never wear silks and 
feathers in Normandy ; here the work-girls can have 
them.” 

“I do not care for fine dress, and I would be 
happy in a poor cottage with you. Am I not as 
dear as ever ? ” 

“ Chut ! ” said Guerenne, holding up his finger in 


124 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


warning, as the two ladies, unwilling to become 
eavesdroppers, stood up and sought another part of 
the vessel. 

Passing by the Frenchwoman and her companion, 
Alice noticed that the girl was a pretty brunette, 
with decided character in her face; but the man, who 
looked as if he belonged to a higher station in 
society, did not impress her favorably. There was a 
sinister expression about the mouth, which did not 
win confidence. 

At last the long-expected cry of “Land” was 
shouted from the mast-head, and eager looks and 
glad voices welcomed the tidings. To some “Land” 
conjured up the vision of a happy fireside, where 
wife and children listened for that voice whose every 
tone resounded in their hearts ; to others it spoke of 
a mother and sisters who with fond embrace would 
welcome the returned wanderer; the exile greeted 
it as the El Dorado in which he would find a happier 
home; whilst to Alice and her mother it pictured a 
past of varied hues, and a future on whose canvas as 
yet only a dim outline was traced. 

A bright morning in August saw the. Vulture 
anchored in New York bay, and Mrs. Desmond felt 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


125 


a thrill of pleasure as she again set foot on her 
native shore. ‘‘It is home where’er the heart is,” 
and whilst her husband lived, the Green Isle had been 
the dearest spot of earth to her, but after his death 
it seemed as though an invisible hand ever pointed 
westward, and a voice whispered “ Go, tarry not.” 
This may be ascribed to overwrought fancy, yet 
certain it is that she now felt as if her mission had 
been accomplished, and it only remained for her to 
await the next decree. When the usual custom- 
house examination had been gone through, she and 
Alice were driven to the Astor House, where they 
proposed to pass the night, and telegraph their 
arrival to John Seaford. It was about two in the 
afternoon when they reached the hotel, and after 
some rest and refreshment, our heroine remarked on 
the hum of busy life which pervaded the Empire 
city. 

“ It is a matter of surprise to myself, Alice, to see 
how it has grown since the day I embarked for 
Europe ; and as we have some hours on our hands, it 
will pass the time to take a look at the city. We 
can call at Stewart’s and get those trifles you need.” 

“Would you not rather rest, mother?” 


126 


THE JOINT VENTUBE. 


‘‘No, I do not feel at all tired, and we will only 
walk a few squares.” 

The histories of Greece and Rome had infused 
into Alice’s mind a love for republican government, 
and she was eager to see anything in the New 
World that claimed admiration. Stewart’s mam- 
moth store could not fail to arrest her attention, not 
because of its fine fabrics and costly wares — she had 
seen as rich velvets and laces in the Sackville street 
shops — but here was the evidence of a master mind 
directing an establishment that spoke of great re- 
sources, commercial enterprise, and the well-directed 
skill which contributes to national prosperity. She 
felt some pride in seeing this superstructure raised 
by Irish ability and industry ; though reflection in 
after years convinced her that the financial powers 
of the renowned New York merchant had effected 
little in comparison with the labors of the despised 
peasant in the coal mines, on the railroads, and in 
the thousands of factories which make the boast of 
New England. “They have gone from us with a 
vengeance,’^ said John Bull. “They have come to 
us with their willing hearts and stout hands,” said 
Brother Jonathan. “Quick! let us unearth the 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


127 


treasures in our mines ; let us open up communica- 
tion with every state, from north to south of our 
broad dominion ; let us build factories whereby we 
may become independent of foreign commodities, 
and in time open a mart for European trade. Set to 
work with a vengeance ! ” 

Some may say that the labor of the Irish people 
in the United States was an accident, and their 
emigration a necessity. True, but so was the advent 
of the Pilgrim Fathers; and, while we claim no 
superiority for the Irish laborer over the laborer of 
any other land, we insist that America owea it to 
her own sense of justice and self-respect, to speak of 
the Irishman who fought her battles and plowed 
her fields, as indulgently as she does of the English- 
man and the German, who were arrayed against her 
in her hour of danger, and who stood aloof until her 
acquaintance was worth seeking. 

As the ladies were returning to the hotel, one of 
those changes peculiar to the American climate, 
occurred ; the sky became suddenly overcast, and a 
heavy shower was evidently impending. Being only 
a square from the Astor House, they quickened their 
pace, expecting to be under shelter before the rain 


128 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


fell; but presently there was a heavy down-pour, 
which saturated their light summer habiliments. 
On gaining their room, both divested themselves of 
their wet clothing as speedily as possible, and Mrs. 
Desmond retired for the evening. She did not 
appear to suffer from her late exposure to the 
weather, and was soon in a deep slumber ; but to- 
wards morning, she awoke with feverish symptoms, 
and acute pains in the chest. A physician was sum- 
moned, who pronounced it a severe attack of pneu- 
monia. A dispatch was immediately sent to John 
Seaford, and Alice once more kept anxious watch by 
her mother’s bed. 

* sK He * 

“What is the hour, Alice?” 

“Eleven o’clock, mother. Uncle must soon be 
here.” 

“I hope so, for I would wish to bid him a last 
good-bye.” 

“ Oh ! what dreadful meaning is in your words ? ” 
sobbed Alice, as she laid her head on the pillow. 

“My dear, dear child. Heaven now calls on you 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


129 


for fortitude. I fear I must leave you. It wrings 
my heart to say this, but you will still be under the 
care of a merciful Father, who has even the hairs of 
your head numbered.” 

“O mother!” was all Alice could utter, as she 
gave way to a fit of convulsive weeping. 

“Be comforted, my darling. This would be a 
'bitter woe indeed, if I had not the Christian’s con- 
solation, the hope of a happy reunion. The parting 
will be but for a short time, Alice, and it is fit that I 
should go before you ; but your father and myself 
will await the coming of our beloved daughter at 
the golden gate which leads to a life where all is 
joy, where there shall be no more parting. And 
you, my child, will remember your parents at the 
holy sacrifice — you will not forget them in your 
prayers.” 

“Never, dear mother — but it is so hard to lose 
you now.” 

“For a little while I must be taken from your 
sight, my love, but remember, I will always be with 
you in spirit. When sorrow or danger besets your 
path, then be assured that your mother hovers near, 


130 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


that she will bring your prayers for help to the foot- 
stool of Divine grace.” 

“I cannot give up all hope,” said Alice, with an 
effort to restrain her grief ; “the doctor does not 
despair of your recovery.” 

“It is better to be prepared, my child. The 
doctor evidently fears the worst ; therefore, let us 
both commit the matter to* Heaven, and say, 
‘Father, thy will be done.’ How, my dear, send 
for a clergyman ; I wish to get the rites of the 
church without delay.” . 

In all the excess of her sorrow, Alice felt that 
the interests of the soul were paramount then ; so 
a priest was immediately summoned, to whom Mrs. 
Desmond made her last confession. The holy Viati- 
cum was afterwards administered, and the clergy- 
man withdrew, leaving the dying lady in communion 
with the Divine guest who had deigned to enter her 
roof. ' 

She had just finished her acts of adoration and 
thanksgiving, when a servant brought a card, an- 
nouncing the arrival of John Seaford. Fearing to 
leave her mother for an instant, Alice desired her 
uncle to be shown up to the room. Presently there 


A TALE IJf TWO LANDS. 


131 


was a knock. Rising from her kneeling posture, by 
her mother’s bed, she went to the door. A gen- 
tleman stood there, in whose erect figure, strongly 
marked features, and rather stern expression of 
countenance, she recognized that brother John, of 
whom Mrs. Desmond had so often spoken. 

“ Uncle ! ” said Alice, extending her hand. 

‘‘My niece, Alice Desmond, I presume,” said John 
Seaf ord, as he lightly touched Alice’s brow. “ How is 
your mother, child?” 

“Alas ! uncle John — I fear there is no hope — ^my 
poor mother!” and the tears fell fast as she mo- 
tioned her uncle to enter. 

John Seaf ord advanced to the bed where lay the 
sister whom he now met after twenty years’ separa- 
tion. 

All estrangement was forgotten, as each marked 
at a glance the ravages time had made. Mary saw 
heavy lines of care on her brother’s brow, and John 
Seaford’s mouth twitched as he marked the death- 
hue on the face of that sister, who, in all his early 
wayward moods, had ever been gentle and affec- 
tionate. Bending down, he kissed her pale lips, and 
said, with some bitterness — 


132 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


“Your marriage has resulted in this, Mary.” 

“Not so, John. Life and death are in the hands 
of an Almighty Being. My dear husband loved me 
to the last, and no unkindly feeling ever disturbed 
our peaceful home. I die in the full confidence of 
being anchored on the Rock of Salvation; and in 
you I know my beloved child will find a protector. 
Comfort her, my dear brother, when I am gone.” 

“ She. shall be to me as my own daughter. I feel, 
Mary, that I owe you some amends for past neglect.” 

“I never accused you of any, John ; and, trusting 
in your noble nature, I die happy, for I know you 
will carefully guard the one treasure I leave on 
earth. And you, dear Alice, will always be an 
obedient and affectionate daughter to the uncle who 
will henceforth supply a parent’s place.” 

Taking a hand of each, as they stood beside her 
bed, she joined them within her own, and, ex- 
hausted by the effort of speaking, fell back on her 
pillow. 

Alice hastened to apply restoratives, which fanned 
the expiring spark of life into a momentary blaze. 

“Mary,” said her brother, in a voice husky with 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


133 


emotion, ‘‘we shall soon be parted. Is there no 
other wish I can gratify?” 

“ This evidence of your love is very dear to me, 
and may Heaven requite it to you and to your child. 
Alice, you will love Laura as a dear sister. There is 
no more to wish for. I thank God for the light and 
the blessings vouchsafed me. I rejoice in having 
made my husband’s life happy; and the affection 
of my child will attend me even beyond the grave. 
It has been permitted me to see you again, dear 
John, and to be consoled by your brotherly care and 
kindness. Now I can fall to sleep in my Savior’s 
arms. Lord, Jesus, receive my soul ! O Mary, im- 
maculate Virgin, lead me to the throne of thy 
Divine son.” 

The eyes closed, but the lips still moved in prayer. 
Alice, holding her mother’s hand, locked in her’s, 
presented the crucifix to her lips. A smile passed 
over the face, and the spirit was before its Creator. 

May we not well believe that the Virgin Mother, 
to whose care a dying Savior committed man, and 
charged man to treasure her maternal love, responded 
to the supplication addressed to her, and led the dis- 
embodied spirit to the feet of its Redeemer? 


134 


THE JOINT • VENTUEE. 


We must draw a veil over the daughter’s grief. 
For some time the sense of her loss, and a dreary 
feeling of loneliness, held her senses in a stupor of 
sorrow. Then her uncle took her hand, and said, in 
a voice that sounded very soft — 

“Bo not grieve, Alice. There must he a home 
beyond the skies for those like your mother. Such 
a death is surely the entrance to life.” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


135 


4 


CHAPTER Vin. 

GEEALD GETS DISGUSTED WITH H. M. S. 

If, O reader, you be interested in Alice Desmond, 
and Alice Desmond only, you can skip this chapter, 
and comfortably remain on the American side of the 
Atlantic. We intend to recross and see how fared 
it with Gerald Barry. Come — no grumbling. You 
can stay or go, as you choose. Too tired, — would 
prefer to remain, — but still you would like to know 
what became of him? Just to satisfy you, then, 
we’ll end this chapter at once, and tell you that he 
left his country. 

For his country’s good, do you say? 

That is as it may be. From a British statesman’s 
point of view, every Irish emigrant is a benefit to 
his country ; and if the summum bonum has not 
yet been reached, it must be that his legislative 


grammar runs thus : 

One million Irish emigrants good. 

Two million “ better. 

Three million “ best. 


The native population. . . the summum bonum. 


136 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Never mind, Mr. Legislator. Plato and all the 
other philosophers could only approximate to the 
idea of ‘‘ the chief good ; ” while you, you — though 
you have not yet accomplished it — you have cer- 
tainly grasped the idea — at least, in Irish affairs. 

One thing you have done, perhaps, — that of in- 
ducing the reader to hurry over, while one of the 
aborigines is left. 

But what of Barry? When did he leave, and 
why? 

As you will persist in speaking, reader, I must tell 
you ^Hhat all you say will be used in evidence,” that 
you are interested in Gerald; and so — and so we 
must e’en satisfy you. 

Gerald Barry was not one of whom Chispa could 
say “A plague on all lovers who ramble about at 
nights, drinking the elements, instead of sleeping 
quietly in their beds.” Truth to say, his appetite 
and sleep suffered but very little from his lady love’s 
departure. He loved Alice; had tried to win her; 
and had failed. He loved her still, and youth and 
hope whispered bright thoughts of a happy reunion. 
In the meantime, however, he had good sense enough 
to know that healthy occupation was better for mind 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


137 


and body, than incessant musings over disappointed 
hopes. He accordingly filled the spare hours from 
the telegraph office, by teaching, by private study, 
by one thing and another; and though ever and anon 

“In his fancy reigned supreme 
The ideal woman of a young man’s dream,” 

he succeeded pretty well. 

He might have succeeded better, had his desire 
of getting into the Civil Service been obtained; but 
though a month had elapsed since Sir Humphrey 
was elected M. P. for the county, no su mm ons for 
examination had arrived. Our hero’s mind was get- 
ting soured by the delay, and But we can bet- 

ter judge how matters stood, from the following 
letter, which he wrote about this time to Frank 
Rood, a college chum of his, who had wandered to 
the United States some years previous. 

“ A graduate of Dublin University, as you know, 
I had the overwhelming ambition, some twelve 
months since, to aspire to a clerkship in her British 
Majesty’s Record Office. I bought Cassell’s Guide 
to the Civil Service, hunted out “Record Office,” 
found that clerks were paid not less than £90 per 
annum, and had an increase of £10 each year. 


138 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


‘‘‘Just the thing,’ I mentally exclaimed. 

“Qualifications; — English history, penmanship, 
precis, vulgar and decimal fractions. 

“ What ! the dignity of being accounted an officer 
on Her Majesty’s Service, together with £90 (and 
the increase) per annum, lying in wait for an English 
history — penmanship — precis — vulgar and decimal — 
man ! I lit a cigar, and reflected, whether it would 
not compromise me terribly in the eyes of the world, 
if I, a University man, who had devoured the pages 
of Bacon, Macaulay, and Locke; had worked ab- 
struse problems in Algebra, Geometry, Trigonome- 
try, and Calculus; could quote whole passages from 
Virgil and Horace, and render any passage in Ho- 
mer, Sophocles, and Euripides; — if I, who had even 
mastered Gesenius’s Hebrew grammar, should accept 
a post— even though on Her Majesty’s Service— that 
rated its standard of qualifications at so low a point. 

“By the time I finished my cigar, I concluded 
that I would accept it ; but firmly resolved that on 
the day of examination I would demand to be exam- 
ined on such optional subjects as Latin, Greek, 
and Mathematics. This determination arrived at, 
nothing was wanting but a nomination. I consulted 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


139 


Cassell again. It said ‘the power of nomination 
rests generally with members of Parliament.’ 

“Not a single M. P. was I acquainted with! How 
unlucky. But stay; there was our county member, 
Sir Humphrey Crass, who was reported to be a per- 
sonal friend of Mr. Antig’s, to whose (Mr. A.’s) son 
I played the part of private tutor, at a remuneration 
sufficiently large to keep me in cigars, and suffici- 
ently small to keep me in the good graces and 
cheery ‘if I can ever be of assistance to you, count 
on me’s’ of Mr. Antig. ‘ The very man,’ and saying 
so, I proceeded forthwith to Mr. Antig, whose 
suavity of manner was even redoubled on hearing 
the object of my mission. 

“‘Certainly, my dear Barry, certainly. I will 
write to Sir Humphrey Crass this very evening, 
and if the thing can be done, you may depend on 
his assistance. Personal friend of mine. Sir Humph- 
rey Crass; and has assured me that my influence- 
very slight, notwithstanding his flattering assertion 
— that my influence was of incalculable service to 
him in obtaining his seat last election.’ 

“ Mumbling something about my agreement with 
Sir Humphrey, in fully believing the powerful influ- 


140 


THE JOINT VENTUBE. 


ence of Mr. Antig, I returned my warmest thanks to 
that gentleman for his kindness. 

" ‘ The early bird catches the worm,’ soliloquized 
I; and immediately bought foolscap by the ream, a 
box of Gillett’s best, placed Smith, Lingard, and 
Macaulay on my table, and sent for a Precis and an 
Arithmetic. Hardly had these last arrived, when a 
note from Sir Humphrey Crass informed Mr. Antig 
that ‘ he would be very glad to use his influence for 
a gentleman of Mr. Barry’s educational abilities, 
especially when recommended by a gentleman whose 
uprightness and acumen of intellect were universally 
acknowledged. If Mr. Barry would send him a writ- 
ten application for a nomination to the office which 
he was seeking, he would lay it before the Civil Ser- 
vice Commissioners.’ 

“ I wrote the letter and then proceeded to study 
for the examination. Jupiter ! did I not study ! 
Fishing-rod, gun, bat, even my favorite meerschaum, 
were ignominiously ejected from my study room till 
such time as I could comfortably enjoy them ; when 
an officer on Her Majesty’s Service, and holding high 
carnival on £90 (with the increase) per annum. 

‘‘‘Business before pleasure,’ muttered I, and sa^ 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


141 


down to my desk. Suddenly I "started up, struck 
with an idea. What if I should shave my head ! 
There’s no knowing when the Summons for Exami- 
nation may come ; perhaps in a week, certainly in 
a month. And here are Macaulay, Lingard, Arith- 
metic, and Precis to be gone through ! If I would 
only shave my head, there could be no temptation 
to leave my books. After due reflection, I did not 
shave. If I did, young Antig would ventilate the 
affair, and I would receive pressing invitations to 
half a dozen evening parties, and a score of billets; 
from my lady friends, requesting my escort to alb 
the picnics and flower-shows in the neighborhood. 

“Confound them! they would not wish for better- 
fun. What a guy I would make of myself when, 
taking off my hat to bow to all the old ladies, not 
to mention the young ones, whom the girls would; 
be sure to introduce me to. No, no ! Besides, it 
would look ridiculous to appear so very anxious to 
obtain this clerkship. 

“But did I not study! No more Ashing, riding, 
or shooting ; no more cricket-matches, boat-races, 
or swimming; no balls, parties, or picnics; I eschewed 
smoking and bitter beer; young ladies were things 


142 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


of the past; an officer on Her Majesty’s Service and 
£90 (with the increase) per annum, were things of 
the future — the exertion of securing which was a 
thing of the present. Save my hours in the tele- 
graph office and the walk which I took daily to 
young Antig, I was a very stylite — or rather chair- 
ite. I studied before and after breakfast, before 
and after supper, and went to sleep while men- 
tally tracing the genealogies of English rulers from 
Egbert to Victoria. Oh ! how I crammed ! I could 
tell the date, cause, and effect of every battle found 
in British History ; the when, where, and articles 
of each treaty of peace; could minutely detail the 
feudal system, and was perfectly at home in the 
Corn Laws. Arithmetic was thoroughly worked 
from cover to cover, and my room was littered with 
precis of a correspondence between The Right 
Hon. the Secretary of State, and Gerald Barry, Esq. 
clerk in Her Majesty’s Record Office. 

At the end of two months I felt convinced of my 
capability for obtaining the Premiership, were pen- 
manship, precis, British history, vulgar and decimal 
fractions, the only qualification for that exalted 
position. But the summons for examination had 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


143 


not yet arrived, so I one evening asked Mr, Antig 
if he had heard lately from Sir Humphrey. 

“‘YeSj but he made no mention of your nomina- 
tion. Has he written anything about the subject 
to you ? ’ 

^‘‘Not a line, sir. I hope he has not forgotten 
the matter.’ 

‘‘‘!N’o, I think not. You see, I pressed your re- 
quest on him urgently, and said I would consider 
any favor shown by him to you as a personal obliga- 
tion to myself. Ho, Mr. Barry, I think not. But 
those affairs, you see, are very slow — very slow 
indeed. So much business, so much correspondence, 
and so many applicants. However, it will be all 
right, and in fact you may expect the summons any 
day.’ 

‘^Another month passed by, during which I revised 
my classical and mathematical lore, still fully bent 
on astonishing the natives of the Record Office and 
of the Civil Service Commission department in gen- 
eral. Ho summons made its appearance, so I wrot^ 
a note to Sir Humphrey, requesting to know whether 
he could give me any further information relative 
to the matter concerning which I had the honor of 


144 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


writing to him about three months ago. In a week’s 
time a note from Sir Humphrey begged to acknowl- 
edge the receipt of my letter of such an instant, 
and expressed his sorrow at informing me that 
there was not at present a vacant clerkship in the 
Inland Revenue Office; when a vacancy did occur, 
he would acquaint me of the fact. 

‘ Obstupi, steteruntque comae, et vox faucibus 
haesit ! ’ I was seeking a clerkship in the Record 
Office, and was informed that the Inland Revenue 
Office was clerked to repletion ! Could I have 
made such a gross mistake ? No ; I had kept a 
copy of my first letter to Sir Humphrey, and there 
I saw ‘Record’ written as plainly as if it had been 
stenciled. .1 wrote again, expressing my thanks for 
his letter, and regret for the very great trouble 
which I occasioned ; begged his indulgence for in- 
forming him that I was a candidate for the Record, 
and not the Inland Revenue Office ; and had the 
honor to remain his very humble servant. 

“I received the following reply: — 

‘ London, 

^ White’s, 10 p. M. 

^Dear Sir:— 

I called at the Record Office on yesterday, and 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


145 


got tlie enclosed printed list of qualifications that are 
required of candidates for clerkships in R O. You will do 
well to make yourself up thoroughly in them. In the mean- 
time, rely on my aid in getting you summoned for exami- 
nation as soon as possible. I have already sent in your 
application to the Civil Service Commissioners. 

‘ I remain, dear sir, 

Yours truly, 

Httmphkey Crass.’ 

“Eureka! I had got it at last! Not the 
appointment, but — ^but the next thing to it; yes, the 
very next thing. Just to think how kind Sir- 
Humphrey Crass was in nominating me, going him^- 
self to the Record OfiSce, and forwarding me thQ> 
printed list — all in the space of three months. A 
herculean task ! not certainly for an ordinary man, 
but for a baronet. Baronets are not to be consid- 
ered ordinary men. 

“Had I lived in the days of Olympian Jove, I 
would certainly have sacrificed a snow-white steer, — 
if I could afford it. As it was, I penned a gushing 
letter of thanks to Sir Humphrey, and begged his 
acceptance of a Latin ode, penned by me when the 
receipt of his last letter necessitated an outlet for my 
emotions of gratitude. I remember that those lines 
of Horace, 


146 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


MseccDas atavis edite regibus, 

O et praBsidium et dulce decus meum ! ” 

inspired me with the idea. Such a striking parallel- 
ism too ! Maecenas had patronized Horace, intro- 
duced him to Augustus, and loaded him with honors, 
favors, and emoluments; Sir Humphrey Crass (how 
singular, too, that the final letters of both patrons’ 
names were identical, save that ‘ Crass ’ had an 
additional ‘s’) had nominated me, walked to the 
Record Office, and forwarded a list of qualifications 
to me. 

“ Once more I pored over the British kings and 
queens, reviewed my precis, and solved the arith- 
metical posers. A month rolled by, and to partially 
prevent myself from harboring the delusive ideas of 
Gerald Barry having become metamorphosed into a 
Stuart, Guelph, or Tudor, an article of precis, or a 
vulgar and decimal fraction, I recalled from exile a 
long-lost and valued friend — my meerschaum. I 
filled it with Lundyfoot; and while watching the 
graceful smoke-wreaths, hope, cheering hope, filled 
my heart once more; they twisted, twined, and 
curled above my head, but twist, twine, and curl as 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


147 


they would, they always wreathed into those mag- 
netic and entrancing characters, H. M. S., and £90. 

“ It was the seventh month since the date of my 
first application, when I again wrote to Sir Hum- 
phrey. In a few weeks a letter came from the M. P. 
to Mr. Antig, in which he said : ‘ Tell your friend, 

Mr. Barry, that I am at present unable to press his 
claims on the attention of the C. S. C. with the 
earnestness I would wish. In the present crisis of 
affairs it would render my motives highly liable to 
misconstruction if I, a member of the Opposition, 
should ask any favor of the Ministry. But I need 
not tell you that the Government has lost the confi- 
dence of the nation, and in a few months the time 
must come (a time when you, my dear Mr. Antig, and 
every true-hearted patriot shall be called on to for 
ward the real interests of the country) when I can 
readily further the welfare of Mr. Barry.’ 

“ I confided my fortunes to fate and the ‘ crisis of 
affairs.’ Little by little I annulled the decree of 
ostracism which I had launched against hitter beer, 
bats, rod, and gun. While resuming my acquaint- 
ance, however, with Bass, Ponto, and Strauss, I 
never forgot or cut Macaulay, Lingard, or Precis. 


148 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


“ The ‘ crisis ’ came about a month ago ; the Min- 
isters resigned, and the ‘ true-hearted patriotsj’ after 
giving due reflection, over barrels of ale and whisky, 
to the ‘ real interests of the country,’ re-elected, by 
an overwhelming majority. Sir Humphrey Crass, 
as their representative in Parliament.” 

Thus did matters stand with Gerald Barry, and 
day by day was he getting more and more discon- 
tented with Sir Humphrey for not being summoned; 
with Mrs. Desmond for not writing as she had prom- 
ised; with himself and the rest of the world in 
general. About this period he formed the acquaint- 
ance of a Mr. Villines, and found that he also had 
received a nomination for the Civil Service. 

‘‘ What department ? ” asked Gerald. 

‘‘A cadetship in the constabulary. Do you not 
find it an awful bore to be waiting for the summons 
for examination, Mr. Barry?” 

“ Bore ! I should think I do. It is now ovei 
fourteen months since I first applied for a clerkship 
in thev Record Office. But you speak as if you, too, 
had felt the delights of procrastination, eh?” 

“No wonder, by Jove ! Talk about fourteen 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


149 


months ! Why, sir, I have been nearly three years 
waiting for my Exam.” 

“ Three years ! ” 

“ Yes, sir, three years.” 

“And when do you expect to be summoned?” 

“ Heaven only knows ! Some time, perhaps, in 
the next three years. Ha ! ha! ha! It is ridiculous, 
by George, when one thinks about the matter seri- 
ously. I have known fellows to be kept waiting so 
long that they finally exceeded the required age, and 
were obliged either to lie most abominably, or look 
out for something else.” 

“ I don’t know how it is,” said Barry peevishly, 
“ but the clerks in the Record Office appear to be as 
much of a fixture as Nelson’s Pillar itself. I abso- 
lutely shudder sometimes at the homicidal ideas I 
entertain towards them.” 

“How? I do not quite understand.” 

“Well, you see, no vacancies have occurred in 
that department.” 

“No vacancies!” said Villines with surprise. 
“ Why, certainly they have. In a Gazette which I 
got a week ago, I saw that two gentlemen had 
passed for clerkships in the Record Office, and I 


150 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


know for certain that applicants for the same depart- 
ment have been summoned three or four times 
during the period you have mentioned.” 

Gerald must have stood aghast, for his acquaint- 
ance continued, “ Do not imagine for an instant, my 
dear fellow, that your time will come in regular 
rotation. Your name may head a list of twenty 
applicants; still, any and every one of the nineteen 
may be summoned before you, if he should chance 
to be a pet of one of the Commissioners, or of one 
of the Commissioner’s friends; if his father be a 
thick-and-thin supporter of Government, and can by 
his influence throw three or four votes into the 
ministerial scale; or if the M. P. who has nominated 
him should actively and earnestly bestir himself in 
his behalf. These, sir, these, — not character, ability, 
energy, and uprightness, — are the real levers that 
move the mammoth sloth, the Civil Service Commis- 
sion office.” 

This conversation was anything but “balm of 
Gilead” to our office aspirant. The climax was 
reached, however, when in reply to another missive 
sent by him. Sir Humphrey wrote: “The members 
of the Opposition have of late been so clamorous 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


151 


against the so-called favoritism of the Government, 
that I do not deem it advisable or judicious to press 
your claims at present. As soon as the present ex- 
citement subsides, I will be very happy to do what 
I can for you.” 

Disgusted alike with the Ministry and the Oppo- 
sition, with red-tapism, M. P.’s and the Civil Service 
in general, Gerald Barry abandoned all ideas of 
becoming an officer on Her Majesty’s Service, with 
£90 per annum, and soon afterwards did what we 
told the reader in the beginning of this chapter — he 
/eft his country. 


152 


THE JOINT YENTIJEE. 


CHAPTER IX. 

GEEALD HAS AN ADVENTUEE, AND HEAES TWO 
STOEIES. 

After landing in Hew York, and allowing a week 
to roll by, during which he visited the chief places 
of interest and recruited from the fatigue of the 
voyage, Gerald began to seek employment. 

“With health, strength, and five hundred dollars 
in my pocket,” exclaimed he mentally, “I feel inde- 
pendent enough for the time being; but it is just as 
well to commence the battle at once while my swords 
are golden.” 

To work accordingly he went, and after a little 
time succeeded in obtaining a few private pupils. 
These, with the copying of law papers, served to sup- 
ply immediate wants and prevent further inroads on 
his scanty savings. But the work was hard and un- 
remunerative; so when winter was about giving way 
to spring, Gerald looked out for something better, 
and obtained a position as professor of classics and 
mathematics in one of the Pennsylvania colleges. 


A TALE nr TWO LANDS. 


153 


Some few evenings previous to his departure for 
the college, an incident happened, which though 
little thought of at the time, and forgotten by him in 
a few days, recurred distinctly to his mind in after 
years. His boarding-house was in Washington street, 
and one of his favorite customs after supper, was to 
stroll along the battery, and muse over old times, 
and the scenes from which the Atlantic at his 
feet now divided him. Thus was he occupied one 
evening, late in January. The weather was mild for 
the season, the sky tolerably clear, and as Gerald 
smoked a cigar, and gazed over the waves, his 
thoughts went back to the old land, to his orphan 
days, his studies with Mr. Desmond, and his inter- 
course with Alice. What had become of her ? Why 
had they not written ? He appeared to be forgotten 
by all; even his chum, Frank Rood, had left New 
York previous to his arrival, and now, amongst the 
crowds in this great city, not one was he intimate 
with. 

‘‘ I do not see how much better off I am, either,” 
thought he, ‘‘as well have stayed in Avonmore.” 

A young girl passed him, hurriedly, at this mo- 
ment; but Gerald was so absorbed in his reflections 


154 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


that he hardly noticed her, till a sob roused him 
from his reverie. She stood on the quay, a few 
yards to his left, and looked sadly distressed. 

“Poor thing!” muttered Gerald; “she, too, per- 
haps, has crossed those waters, and sorrows for her 
native home.” 

He passed slowly behind her, and noticed how 
thinly she was clad. Her face was directed towards 
the ocean, and he heard her exclaim, piteously, in 
French, “ Alas ! alas ! what else is left ! ” A par- 
oxysm of tears followed, and Gerald approached to 
speak words of comfort. Well that he did, for only 
by a sudden bound did he succeed in preventing the 
wretched girl from flinging herself into the waters. 

“ Poor creature I ” said he, while exerting all his 
strength in resisting her wild struggle at self-de- 
struction; “what would you do?” 

“What!” cried she, excitedly; “can I not even 
destroy my misery with my life ! Leave me, mon- 
sieur, I beg you.” 

“ No ! no ! ” cried Gerald, whose knowledge of 
French enabled him to understand what she said. 
“Not till you promise to quit all thoughts of so 


sinful an act.” 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


155 


“ Sinful ! ” she cried bitterly, Mon Dieu ! It is to 
avoid a life of sin that I do it,” and she burst into 
tears. 

Barry allowed her to weep unrestrainedly for a 
few moments, merely putting her arm in his and 
drawing her some distance from the quay. 

‘‘There,” said he at last, “cheer up now, and let 
us know your troubles. Perhaps they may be 
relieved.” 

The girl had become quieter by this time; fainter 
too, for she leaned heavily on her companion’s arm. 

“ Troubles ! ” she replied, wiping away the tears 
which still started to her eyes. “Yes, indeed — de- 
sertion — no work — no friends — no home — no food ! 
Oh, monsieur, I am very wretched ! ” 

“But, my poor girl, these are all misfortunes, not 
sins. Tell me, are you a Catholic?” 

“Yes, monsieur.” 

“And do you not know the dreadful consequences 
of hurling yourself into God’s presence before He 
summons you ? ” 

The tears fell again, as she exclaimed in anguish, 
“ May the good God have mercy on me for being so 
tempted. But what shall I do ? What shall I do ? ” 


156 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


“Do? You’ll do better, of course,” replied Ger- 
ald cheerfully. “And as for those troubles you 
mentioned, some of them must be endured, others 
may be relieved. One of them, however, and that 
the most pressing, can be remedied right here.” 

They had by this time approached a restaurant, 
which Barry now entered. Seating his companion 
in a quiet corner, he ordered supper for both. Hun- 
ger does not require much pressing, and Gerald had 
the satisfaction of seeing his charge do ample justice 
to the viands. She was about twenty years of age, 
of medium size, with long black hair, which, during 
her attempt at suicide, had fallen from its knot, and 
possessed a pretty face, although the features were 
not over regular in outline. Altogether very attrac- 
tive in appearance, thought Barry, as he scanned 
her countenance now and again during the repast. 
This last being over, Gerald said kindly — 

“How, madamoiselle, for those other troubles of 
yours. But first, will you not tell me your name ? ” 
Perceiving that she hesitated, he added “Mine ia 
Gerald Barry.” 

“My name, monsieur, is Julie Liberte.” 

“Well, Julie, suppose you let me hear your story. 


A TALE m TWO LAifDS. 


157 


Who knows hut that your troubles may prove capa- 
ble of healing. I may be able to suggest a remedy 
for some of them at least.” 

Gerald’s frank look and manifest sympathy in- 
spired confidence; and with the forcible eloquence 
of truth, the young French girl told her simple story. 

Some nine months previous, Julie Liberte was 
assistant in a Havre establishment. One day, a 
gentleman, foreign in his manners, speech, and 
appearance, entered and asked for a pair of gloves.. 
Whilst being waited on, he commenced a conver^- 
sation with Julie, attracted by her handsome face,, 
her bright smiles, and liveliness of demeanor, Next- 
day he called again, this time for some handker-. 
chiefs; and if one might judge from the difficulty 
he had in selecting, and the various questions he put 
to Julie, it would be inferred that kerchiefs were 
articles in which he was rather fastidious. It seemed 
indeed, as if Mr. Guerenne’s entire wardrobe ap- 
peared in want of renovation, for each succeeding 
day saw him a visitor and buyer at the store, and 
Julie smiled gayly when he vowed that never had 
he purchased such excellent gloves, ties, cuffs, and 
kerchiefs. One “evening, too, he was enabled to 


158 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


save the young girl from some insult while walking 
from the store to her boarding-house; and hence- 
forward, — so great was his kindness and anxiety for 
her well-being, — Julie found an escort homewards 
in the person of Mr. Guerenne. Who could with- 
stand so much interest, so much devotion? Not 
poor Julie; and almost ere she was aware of it, 
her heart was Guerenne’s, and the only great events 
of the twenty-four hours were Henry’s^ (she had 
already learned his Christian name,) daily visit 
and Henry’s stroll homewards with her. 

One evening he said suddenly “Well, Julie, 
another week and I leave Marseilles.” 

It required no acute observer to note the distress 
which those few words occasioned, and Henry Guer- 
enne put his companion’s arm into his and turned 
aside into the small park close by. There he poured 
his tale of love into her ear and learned how well he 
was loved in return. There he described in glowing 
terms how happy they would be in the New World 
to which he was returning; how she need no longer 
dwell in a fourth-story attic, nor tremble for her liv- 
ing at the frown of Madam Gamier, her employer. 
Her future life seemed rose-colored at his drawing, 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


159 


and the orphan girl leaned her head on his bosom 
in an ecstasy of delight and love. 

What happiness ! ” she murmured, as her lover 
kissed her. “ But merci ! you leave in a week, you 
say ? My trousseau ” 

He smiled. “Your trousseau, ma chere? Your 
trousseau will be the richest Hew York can 
provide.” 

“Hew York! I do not comprehend,” said the 
girl in a tone of bewilderment. 

“Easy enough,” replied Guerenne; “my time will 
now be fully occupied in making preparations for 
departure. And you — you would naturally desire a 
gay bridal, a rich trousseau, and all the other et 
cetera of a bride’s desire. Well, by Referring our 

marriage 'till we reach Hew York, we ” The 

girl, shaking her head resolutely in dissent, with- 
drew her hand from his clasp; and though Guerenne 
continued to plead long and earnestly in behalf of 
his plan, she demurred to all his arguments. Hext 
day the gentleman was still more ardent and 
pressing in his entreaties, but Julie continued firm, 
and even received h^is protestations of love with a 
coolness that served but to fan the other’s passion. 


160 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Finding her inexorable, he at length yielded the 
point; so one evening beheld their marriage, and the 
morning of the next their departure from Marseilles. 
When some thousand miles from the American shore 
a storm arose, which so disabled their vessel that all 
on board might have perished, were it not that a 
passing steamer hove in sight and transferred passen- 
gers and crew to its own deck. At length they 
landed in New York, and for some time Julie lived 
as happily as the brightest of her dreams had 
pictured. But Guerenne was in business, and after 
some months he began to plead important engage- 
ments as a cause of absence. At first, these rough 
breaks in her joy were measured by days; weeks 
soon intervened between his visits, and J ulie’s 
sorrowful looks were disregarded by her husband, and 
her tender reproaches received with coldness. A 
month at last arrived, during which she had heard or 
seen nothing of him, and the proprietress of the 
boarding-house intimated a desire that the rent should 
be paid. Most of the ready money in Julie’s pocket 
went to meet this demand. Anxiously did she 
await her husband’s coming. But Henry Guerenne 


A TALE IIT TWO LANDS. 


161 


never came, and the thought of desertion became at 
last a sad reality to the wretched wife. 

“Finally, monsieur,” said she to Barry, “I was 
compelled to leave the house and choose a humbler 
tenement. I tried for work, but little could I pro- 
cure. From a poor lodging, I was driven to one still 
poorer; and clothes, trinkets, everything, went in the 
struggle for bread. At last I had nought save this 
left ” — pointing to her wedding ring — “ and so 
— so — ” 

The girl wept quietly, while Barry pondered over 
her story, and revolved in his mind how best he 
could relieve her. The conclusion of his delibera- 
tion was to consign her for a few days to the care 
of his landlady; she might be able to suggest some 
means of employment, and until such could be pro- 
cured, he would leave some money for her mainten- 
ance. In a few words he informed Julie of his 
project, and both set out for Washington street. 

“Here, Mrs. O’Leary,” said Barry, as he led Julie 
into the private parlor, where his landlady and her 
husband were then sitting, “here, I have brought 
you a poor waif, whom I know you will be kind to; ” 
and he proceeded to give an outline of his evening’s 


162 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


adventure, and the chief points of interest in Julie’s 
narrative. 

Long ere he had concluded, the girl’s bonnet and 
shawl were removed, and herself seated in front of 
the bright fire, by the worthy landlady. No two 
persons could be more unlike in appearance, than 
Mrs. O’Leary and her spouse. She was small, pale, 
slender, intelligent, and an American; Ned O’Leary 
was robust, fiorid, heavy in appearance, and a 
thorough Celt. Similia similibus appeared ludicrous 
in their union; but, nevertheless, it proved true in 
two essential points — good humor, and a kindly dis- 
position. 

When Gerald had finished his recital, sympathy 
beamed in the matron’s eyes, as she kissed Julie. 

‘‘Poor thing,” said she; so young and so unfortu- 
nate already!” 

“ The thundering villain ! ” shouted Mr. O’Leary, 
banging the table with his hand; “ I only wish I had 
the hanging of him ! ” 

Gerald proceeded to discuss his plan for Julie’s 
welfare, but his landlady soon broke in. 

“ Land’s sake, Mr. Barry, there’s no need of your 
paying me money for the poor child. I’ll take care 


A TALE Iiq’ TWO LANDS. 


163 


of her, and that willingly. She’ll help me about the 
house, and next Sunday I’ll tell Father Fitzgerald all 
about her case. He may be able to direct her for 
the best.” 

“Never get married, Mr. Barry,” said Ned, 
solemnly. 

“Why?” asked Gerald. 

“ Faith, for a good reason; — you’ll never have a 
will of your own if you do. See there, now, if Sarah 
hasn’t settled the whole business about Miss Julie, 
and what she’ll do for her, without even saying ‘By 
your leave, Ned O’Leary.’ Never mind, Sarah, I 
forgive you,” added he, with comic gravity; “and to 
show I bear no malice. I’ll take the decanther, some 
hot water and sugar from you. Glory to you ! ” as 
the decanter was set before him; “ sure, obedience is 
as good as honor in the matrimonial vow any day of 
the year. Won’t you take a drop yourself, al- 
annha^” This to Julie. “Good spirits is the best 
remedy I know for bad ones. You won’t? Well, 
here’s success to you, anyhow; and it’s meself that 
will say a pather and ave to-night for that villain 
to get what he. deserves.” 

“Well, Ned,” said his wife, smiling, “do not 


164 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


spend too long praying, for it’s getting late. Come, 
Julie.” 

Bedad, then, I spent longer in praying for your- 
self,” replied Ned, with a good-natured laugh. 

‘‘Did you ever hear how I converted the hay- 
then ? ” asked he, as the door closed on his wife and 
Julie. 

“What heathen?” inquired Barry. 

“ Sarah Hoppin that was, Mrs. Ned O’Leary that 
is. No? Well, then, mix yourself a tumbler of 
punch and I’ll tell you.” 

“ About five years ago,” commenced he, while 
puffing his pipe, “ I began to board with Sarah Hop- 
pin. She was a widow, then, and a Protestant. 
May the Lord forgive her ! — for being a Protestant, 
I mean, for the poor creature couldn’t help being a 
widow, I suppose. I was only commencing in the 
world meself, at that time, and had just got a con- 
tract for grading and repairing some streets up 
town. New York wasn’t as big then as it is now, 
nor as clane, either, and what with hard work, the 
bad air, and working for days knee-deep in water, I 
woke one morning with pains and aches enough in 
my body to satisfy any half dozen Christian souls in 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


165 


pul’gatory. The doctor was sent for, and said I had 
got the rheumatic faver, but that he’d get me over 
it. Sure enough, he did; but it took him six mortal 
weeks to keep his promise. Well, sir, a few days 
after I got well, and was walking about, bad luck to 
it if I wasn’t laid up again; and this time it was an- 
other faver. The lung faver, the doctor called it; 
and mavrone, all the courage of the O’Leary’s went 
out of me when he shook his head, and mutthered 
something about my constitution not being able to 
stand another attack. And there stood Mrs. Ned — 
Mrs. Hoppin, I mean, with the tears in her eyes, as 
she asked him would I get over it. ‘ Yes, ma’am,’ 
said he, ‘ we’ll get him over the faver, but he’ll be 
so wake after it that nothing but the greatest atten- 
tion and. nursing will save his life.’ 

“‘If that’s all, doctor,’ says she, ‘he’ll live, for 
I’ll nurse him myself ! ’ 

“Well, with that and her spaking so plucky, he 
asked her, civilly, if I was her husband. Bedad, I 
could see the poor woman blush when he asked the 
question; and I don’t know but I blushed meself, 
too, only that the faver was so high, I suppose, they 
couldn’t see it. 


166 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


“They’re the divils for doctors, anyhow,” apos- 
trophized Mr. O’Leary, as he began mixing himself 
another whisky punch. “ When I was all over it, he 
said I was an excellent patient; and I believe him, 
for when he spoke the words, he had sixty dollars of 
mine in his pockets — forty for one faver, and twenty 
for the other. Well, not to interrupt meself; at the 
end of nine or ten days, I was neither here nor there. 
The faver had left, sure enough; but many a long 
day after, it seemed as if it had taken with it the 
body and soul, and six of the seven senses of Ked 
O’Leary. The seventh appeared to stay behind — 
only to watch and look at the kind face of Sarah 
Hoppin, and ’tis often she’s told me since, that my 
two eyes used to haunt her in her drames, and say, 
‘Wake up, Sarah Hoppin, and give Hed his beef tea.’ 
Here’s her health, and long life to her, for — not 
saying that she’s my wife, — she’s the kindliest and 
the truest-hearted woman in crayation. That sounds 
like braggin’, but never mind. She watched me, 
fed me, nursed me, and — well, if I’m a hearty man 
here to-night, it’s Sarah Hoppin’s doings. 

“ Quare thoughts used to cross my brain when I 
was lying on the broad of my back, on the sick bed, 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


167 


but the two that occurred the oftenest were, ‘She’s 
a Protestant,’ and the doctor’s remark, ‘ Is he your 
husband, ma’am?’ 

“Well, sir, as soon as raison and intelligence re- 
turned to me, I promised myself to pray for a whole 
year, morning, noon, and night, that the Blessed 
Virgin would put it into Sarah Hoppin’s heart to 
turn Catholic; and, hedad, if I paid all my promises 
to Heaven as faithfully as I did that one. Saint Peter 
would open the gates and say, ‘ Step right in, Ned 
O’Leary,’ when I approached. To make a long 
story short, I bought a picture of the Blessed Virgin, 
hung it in my bed-room, and prayed hard and fast to 
her, three times a day, that the good woman who 
nursed me might see the light of the true church. 
From Monday to Sunday, week in and week out, I 
went on with my jubilee; and at the end of six 
months Mrs. Hoppin was as big a Protestant as ever. 
In spite of meself, I was getting discouraged, but I 
kept on praying harder than ever, notwithstanding. 
Two months more passed by, and still I’d see her 
going to church on Sundays, with her bible. I was 
getting almost crazy; and, indeed, I used to pray sc 
loud, and keep mutthering to myself, walking up 


168 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


and down the room, that the other boarders thought 
I was crazy. Another month came round; but, be- 
gorra, one Friday, as I stept into the kitchen, what 
should I see her but aiting a beefsteak, just as if I 
never said the hades for her salvation. 

“I couldn’t stand tha% you know; so I-ran up to 
my room, locked the door, and walked straight up 
to the picture of the Blessed Mother. ‘ Arrah ! ’ 
says I to her, ‘ what’s the use of wasting my breath 
on her? What kind of a heart has she, at all, at all? 
Here I’ve been patthering pather and aves to you 
now for over nine months, counting my hades, and 
saying your rosary, and the divil a one of her is 
more of a Catholic to-daj^ than she was when I be- 
gan. Can’t you do anything for her, at all,’ said I. 

‘ You’ve been looking down at me, and listening to 
me long enough; but, ’pon my conscience, if you 
don’t stir yourself, I’m afraid Old Nick will have 
her yet. Oh, wirra, wirra, isn’t it too bad, after she 
nursing me like me own mother, and saving me from 
the jaws of death ! Holy Virgin, do something for 
the poor craychur, and don’t let her be lost in a way 
like that;’ and down again I fell on my knees, and 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


169 


begged our Blessed Lady to intercede for her poor 
soul. 

“Well, sir, half an hour afterwards, as I was going 
out, who should call me into this very room but Mrs. 
Hoppin. 

“ ‘ Mr. O’Leary,’ says she, ‘ is anything the matter 
with you ? ’ 

“ ‘ Sorra the thing, ma’am,’ says I. 

“ ‘ You’re not sick, are you? ’ asked she. 

“‘Divil a sick, ma’am,’ said I; ‘sure it’s yourself 
and the sixty dollars that’s left me an elegant con- 
stitution.’ 

“‘Well then,’ says she, ‘there’s something weigh- 
ing on your mind ? ’ 

“ Bedad, sir, she had me there, and she saw it like 
winking. But for all that I was’nt going to tell her, 
for sure if the hades and the pather and aves couldn’t 
move her, what could a poor simple spoken body like 
myself expect in the way of argufying the subject. 
Still, all I could say wouldn’t put her off; and, faith, 
ior all that you’d think her quiet and delicate in hei 
ways, she’s just as determined a piece of woman 
flesh as you’d meet in a day’s walk. The short and 
the long of it is, that she taized and taized, till at last 


170 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


I had to make a clane breast of it. Well, sir, when 
she heard the holy all of the matther, what did she 
do but laugh and laugh, till I felt so mad that I ran 
out of the room and left her there. It was hard 
work, you may be sure, to pray for such a haythen 
after that; but still and all, I made up my mind to 
see the thing out for the year. 

“ And what do you think, now ? I’m a sinner if she 
didn’t ask me a few evenings after if I had any Cath- 
olic books ? and when I said I had, if she didn’t ask 
me to loan them to her ! I ran to my room like a 
lamplighter, and if I didn’t cut a double shuffle, naboc- 
lish. Well, sir, I brought her down the Path of 
Heaven and the Catechism, the two books my poor 
mother — God rest her soul ! — gave me when I was 
laving Ireland. 

“ Thing’s went on quiet and aisy like for a week or 
so, and, bedad, the first thing I noticed in the way of 
improvement was that she had all fish and no mate 
on her plate when Fridays came round. ‘ Hurroo ! ’ 
said I to myself, ‘that settles it ! Old iNick, you divil, 
youT hash is cooked with Sarah Hoppin, anyhow. 
By and by, she asked me for some more books, and 
what did I do but go to Father Fitzgerald and ask 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


171 


him for the loan of them, telling him the whole busi- 
ness. He gave them with a heart and a half, you 
may be sure, and she read them, and read, and read, 
and read, till she began to get pale in the face. 
That frightened me, for ever since she kept Fridays 
like a Christian, I used be thinking more and more of 
the quare question the doctor asked her about me 
when I was sick. ’ Twas all right, however, for one 
day she came and wanted to know where my parish 
priest lived. I brought her to Father Fitzgerald; 
and may I never die, if she wasn’t a Catholic before 
the year was out.” 

“ And I suppose,” said Gerald, laughing, “ that was 
not the last visit you and she paid Father Fitz- 
gerald?” 

You see how it is yourself,” said ITed, with a 
merry chuckle. “After I made her a good Catholic, 
I thought ’twould be a mortal shame if I didn’t make 
her a good Irishman. 

“You’re going, are you? Well, I believe it’s about 
time; so good night, sir, and pleasant drames.” 


} 


172 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


CHAPTER X. 

ALICE AND LAURA ARE EACH INTERESTED IN THE 
QUESTION “what IS HE LIKE?” 

In the parlor of one of the most aristocratic man* 
sions in Boston sat two girls, apparently of the 
same age; and when the dark eyes of the one lit 
up with some fanciful thought, or the hazel orbs of 
the other drooped in an occasional reflective mood, 
an observer might detect a family resemblance. 
Xor would he be mistaken; for one of the young 
ladies is our heroine, Alice Desmond, and the other, 
a new acquaintance of ours, is Laura Seaford. 
Alice’s dress shows that the period of outward 
mourning for her mother has passed; and there is a 
look of peaceful resignation on her face, which tells 
us the angel of mercy has stilled the troubled waters 
of grief, and a calm has descended upon her spirit. 
Her uncle’s kindness, together with Laura’s affection, 
contributed to assuage the bitterness of sorrow; and 
a devoted attachment had sprung up between the 
cousins, who seemed to be magnetically attracted 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


173 


to each other at their first meeting. The attractive 
power was not merely the tie of relationship, hut 
still more that mutual sympathy which hinds youth- 
ful hearts together ‘‘ with hooks of steel.” 

Happy youth ! with its noble impulses, ardent 
affections, and unselfish devotion. The saddest 
thing about age is not gray hairs, a wrinkled brow, 
or failing strength, hut the cold hand of calculation, 
which measures generous feeling and plodding 
thought by the same standard; the icy breath of 
distrust, which nips every tender emotion; and the 
withering glance of suspicion, which seres the green 
leaves of fancy’s fair garland. Time may stamp 
his impress on face and form, hut man never grows 
old until the heart is tainted with selfishness; then 
the innocent pleasures of the young become irksome, 
and friendship is a matter of convenience. 

Laura had at times felt very lonely amid all the 
splendor her father’s wealth afforded. She had lost 
her mother a year before the opening of our story, 
and when Mr. Seaford informed her that Alice had 
lately been deprived of both parents and would 
henceforth make one of their family, Laura’s gene- 
rous sympathy was given without reserve to her 


174 


THE JOINT VENTUKE. 


orphan cousin, and she greeted her arrival with a 
warmth of affection which made them sisters from 
that moment. And as every heaven-approved act 
receives its reward, so Laura found her’s in the love 
and devotion of Alice, who would have given her 
own life to secure the happiness of one who had 
met ‘‘the stranger in a strange land” with so 
kind a greeting. 

Life was no longer a dull monotony in the Seaford 
house. Laura’s disposition needed companionship, 
and before her cousin’s arrival she had missed this 
sadly. Heretofore she had taken only a listless 
interest in home duties, but now the details of 
housekeeping formed matter for pleasant discussion; 
real enjoyment could be found in music, birds, flow- 
ers, and those numerous devices in netting and 
crotchet, which are the feminine substitutes for cigars 
— a matter wherein we are decidedly of opinion 
the ladies have chosen “ the better part.” Despite 
all rhapsodies on the glorious inspirations arising 
from the weed, we maintain that the noxious plant 
fosters selflshness, its indulgence tends to obfuscate 
the faculties, and its boasted inspirations would not 
unfrequently allow the responsibilities of life to soar 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


175 


out of view with the curling smoke which ascends 
from the cherished meerschaum. Stay, reader — ^ 
you need not remind us that our hero is one of 
Ike Marvel’s disciples. ‘^’Tis true, ’tis pity; pity 
’tis ’tis . true;” and though we deplore the fact, 
candor compels us to acknowledge that Gerald 
Barry, like other estimable friends of onrs, has a 
weakness for “that strange custom,” as Captain 
Compass expresses it, “of filling the mouth with 
smoke” — he might have added, “ and compelling all 
who sit in company with them to inhale it nolens 
volens.” But whilst avowing our skepticism as to 
the inspirations arising from the narcotic plant, we 
must admit it has tempted us into an involuntary 
digression, for which we crave pardon, and like the 
distinguished orator on the Crisis, we shall now 
return to our subject. 

There was another pleasure which Laura owed to 
Alice — the pleasure of active usefulness in the world. 
Our heroine, like all Catholics, had been taught to 
regard the poor as the chosen of God, who has 
promised to requite the good or the evil done to 
them, and in Avonmore her mother had always en- 
couraged her to give practical effect to her chari- 


176 


THE JOINT YENTUEE. 


table feelings for tbe distressed and afflicted. Laura 
was naturally benevolent, and several societies re- 
ceived liberal contributions from her — one especially, 
which it was the fashion to regard as the most de- 
serving of support, the society for introducing Pro- 
testant Bibles into Italy, and establishing Protestant 
schools in Spain. It had, indeed, sometimes occurred 
to her that the money collected for this purpose 
would be more usefully expended on the ignorant 
and homeless city Arabs of Boston and New York; 
but ^hew the Rev. Mr. A. and the Rev. Mr. B,, 
whose statements were corroborated by the Rev. 
Mrs. C., had been members of a delegation sent to 
southern Europe, and they reported a very hunger 
and thirst on the part of the people of those coun- 
tries, for the enlightenment that would come to 
them with the introduction of the Protestant Bible. 

‘‘How is it,” mused Laura, when returning from 
one of the above-mentioned meetings, “that our so- 
ciety cannot, or does not, effect in the United States, 
the moral improvement it anticipates in Spain and 
Italy? I heard pa say the standard of morality in 
those countries is higher than in our own.” No re- 
flection could furnish Laura with a satisfactory 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


177 


answer to her mental query, so, like a school-boy 
working at a too difficult problem, she ‘‘ let it slide.” 

The example of our heroine directed her cousin’s 
charity into a new channel; and, after relieving the 
necessities of some starving widow, or hungry 
orphan, Laura felt that the few dollars so invested 
had brought a blessing upon her, and she did not, in 
such cases, entertain any doubts as to the good 
resulting from the almsgiving. 

On one subject only did the girls differ materially 
in opinion — this, as may be supposed, was religion. 
Mr. Seaford, the reader is aware, inclined to the free- 
thinking principles of the day. The restraint exer- 
cised over him in youth, particularly as regarded the 
rigid observance of the Sabbath, when all general 
reading was excluded, had so chafed his proud spirit 
that, like the enforced reading of the Bible in the 
public schools, it resulted in his gradually losing 
reverence for the sacred volume, and receiving its 
teachings with a rebellious spirit, determined to dis- 
believe whatever he did not understand. Yet he 
would not have his daughter cast on the shallows of 
doubt, in which he was himself floundering; hence 
he eschewed all conversation on religious topics, in 


178 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


the presence of Laura, satisfied that she believed and 
practiced the principles of Christianity, which he 
considered essential to the happiness of some tem- 
peraments, and to the morality of the masses. Pride 
forbade the utterance of a vain sentiment, but in the 
depth of his soul he thought, ‘‘Those who possess 
my principles of honor and firmness of purpose, can 
shake off the restraints which religion would try to 
impose on the conscience.” Subsequent events may 
test the strength of this bulwark of pride, when 
assailed by man’s insidious foe, temptation. 

Laura was a member of the Episcopal church, but, 
like many Protestants, she attended any place of 
worship that suited her convenience, or taste for 
variety. Miss Seaford did not share the fears of 
some good people, as to the danger of listening 
to a priest — she could have encountered even a 
Jesuit, without going into hysterics, an instance of 
fortitude some writers of our day would do well to 
copy — and at her own desire she had sometimes 
accompanied Alice to the Holy Cross Cathedral, 
where she was greatly impressed by the manifest 
devotion of the congregation, and the rapt attention 
with which rich and poor alike followed the service. 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


179 


It was also a matter of surprise to see the laborer 
and his wife, whose garments bespoke pinching 
poverty, and a hard struggle for daily bread, kneel- 
ing at communion beside one who was evidently a 
favored child of fortune, the same expression of 
reverence on the faces of both, as the Sacred Host 
touched their lips; the same serene satisfaction visi- 
ble in their demeanor, as they returned to their 
places. Wealth and poverty met here on equal 
ground; and the poorly-clad seamstress felt no sense 
of abasement as she advanced to the altar with the 
richly-attired lady, who knew that though it was 
fitting she should array herself decorously to meet 
the Divine bridegroom, nevertheless, all pride of 
heart should be laid aside, else the humble seam- 
stress would find favor, when she would be igno- 
miniously rejected. 

Something of this Laura comprehended, as she 
observed the communicants at the Church of the 
Holy Cross, and remembered that no considerations 
of dress, no inclemency of weather, prevented the 
Catholic servants in her father’s house from going 
to mass on Sundays, whilst the non-Catholic ones, 
like some of her fashionable friends, made their 


180 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


attendance at public worship depend on the style of 
their costumes, and their particular inclinations. 
Even in her own case — here conscience gave an 
admonitory knock — such considerations had occa- 
sionally exercised an influence. 

Her intercourse with Alice disabused Laura’s 
mind of those erroneous opinions regarding Catho- 
licity, which many well-meaning people adopt from 
the nursery tales furnished by the Harpers and Law- 
rences of every age, beginning with the first century 
of Christianity, when the sacrifice of the Mass was 
represented as a sacrifice of human victims ! The 
sensational stories of modern scribblers, concerning 
“escaped nuns” and “monastic prisons,” differ from 
the pagan inventions in requiring an amount of 
credulity which well-informed people in this era of 
the world will hardly accord, though some are found 
who take the concoction with a simple trust, most 
astonishing in our age of inquiry. 

Laura Seaford was not a Catholico-phobist. Her 
mind was too candid to entertain prejudice; and 
though her ideas on dogma were very confused, she 
was never afraid to ask for information, nor unwilL 
ing to listen to the explanation of whatever she did 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


181 


not understand. Here again slie differed from cer- 
tain literary lights, ” who first draw up articles of 
religion which they call “ the teachings of the Roman 
church,” and then assail their own creations with 
withering sarcasm and fierce denunciation — their ad- 
miring friends applauding the while, and proclaim- 
ing the mimic fight “an onslaught on the Papacy.” 

The morning on which our chapter opens was the 
Feast of the Annunciation, and after a few minutes 
spent in the usual chit-chat, Alice, looking at her 
watch, observed — “ It is time to get ready for: 
church. Do you feel in a devout mood to-day„ 
Laura ? ” 

“You are surely not going out in this gloomy- 
weather, cousin Alice. We cannot have the car- 
riage, as Louis is disabled; and see — it is beginning 
to rain already.” 

“Then I must go armed with that special abomi- 
nation of mine, an umbrella.” 

“Why not offer up your prayers at home?” 

“Because it is incumbent on Catholics to worship 
God by sacrifice. This was done in the Old Law, as 
well as by the apostles and their successors, down to 
the present day.” 


182 


THE JOINT, VENTURE. 


“ But why need you go to church this morning ? 
It is not Sunday.” 

“1^0, Laura; but it is a day we are commanded to 
keep holy by ecclesiastical ordinance, in honor of the 
Saviour’s incarnation.” 

“Yet the Bible commands us to keep only the 
Sabbath day holy.” 

“And the Catholic Church alone insists on the ob- 
servance of this command, by requiring her children, 
under pain of sin, to attend public worship on 
Sunday, unless there be some unavoidable cause of 
absence. But you surely do not think we would 
displease God by devoting some additional time to 
His service, or that He intended men to forget Him 
during six days of the week? In former times, as 
you are aware, king, noble, and servitor knelt down 
together at early morning in humble acknowledg- 
ment of their dependence on the great Creator of the 
Universe; now there are thousands in Christian 
countries who worship only Mammon, and recognize 
no Being superior to themselves. Disobedience to 
the authority of the Church has resulted in this.” 

“ So far it certainly cannot be called a change for 
the better. But you seem to make ecclesiastical 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


183 


rules as binding as the Ten Commandments.” 

“ Not so. The Church can, and does, change her 
edicts to suit particular circumstances; but the laws 
of God are equally binding on all, and no dispensa- 
tion from them is ever given. We have this exem- 
plified in the Mosaic Law. Three codes were drawn 
up for the Jews on Mount Sinai — Moral, Civil, and 
Ceremonial; but only the Moral Law was intended 
for all times and all nations, though the Civil Law 
continued in force so long as the Jews were a separ- 
ate nation, and the Ceremonial Law was binding 

until the Savior established a Church in which the 

* ^ 

figures of the Old Law gave place to the true sacri- 
fice of the Cross.” 

‘‘ Then you imply that the essential points of your 
religion never change; yet the Popes have made new 
dogmas.” 

‘‘ Not made — only defined them. They had before 
existed as truths, but until their meaning was dis- 
puted, there was no necessity to pronounce on them. 
New points of law will arise in civil communities on 
which the Supreme Court will decide; but the points 
at issue are merely formulated, not brought into 
existence, by the judges.” 


184 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Here a servant came to say Mr. Seaford desired 
his daughter’s presence in the library; so Alice with- 
drew to prepare for church, whilst Laura proceeded 
to her father’s sanctum, wondering a little what im- 
portant matter required her presence, for the mer- 
chant was very rarely seen by his household during 
the hours intervening between breakfast and their 
late dinner. 

After Mass Alice had to attend to some details re- 
garding a Fancy Fair that was to be held the follow- 
ing week, for the benefit of the orphanage, so there 
was barely time to make her evening toilet when 
she returned home. On descending to the drawing- 
room, she found her uncle conversing with a gen- 
tleman whom she had not seen before at the Seaford 
house. He was introduced to her as Mr. Mark War- 
ren, and Alice thought he changed countenance 
slightly, as he met her gaze. If so, it may have 
been a nervous feeling on the gentleman’s part, 
for, just at that moment, the door was opened by 
Laura, and Mr. Warren hastened to greet the young 
lady with marked empressement. Our heroine per- 
ceived her cousin had already made his acquaint- 
ance, though she did not remember to have heard 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


185 


her speak of him; but further speculation regarding 
the guest was cut short by the announcement that 
dinner was served. 

Being seated opposite Mr. Mark Warren, Alice 
could take a deliberate survey of his personnel, and 
it seemed as though his features were not entirely 
unfamiliar. 

‘‘I have surely seen some one like him,” she 
thought, ‘‘ either at church, on the street, or at a 
public assembly” — she could not recall to mind the 
when, where, or how ; yet his face seemed to flit 
before her memory like a tantalizing phantom con- 
jured up in dreams. 

Anticipating our reader’s desire to know “what 
is he like?” we hasten to gratify a very com- 
mendable love for knowledge. 

Well, the gentleman is like one of Shakespeare’s 
female characters. 

“Why?” you say. 

Because he looks fat, fair, and forty. Observe, 
however, that by you must not suppose him 

to be obese, nor think “ya^> ” has reference to color. 

No, he is simply fleshy, and appears to be on ex* 
cellent terms with Dame Nature, Dame Fortune, 


186 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


ami the world in general— a very /a^>-spoken gen^ 
tleman, too, albeit his hair and mustache are black 
as the raven’s wing. 

You give him up for the present. Then you, dear 
reader, are like Alice Desmond, for she also gave up 
further consideration of the gentleman’s individu- 
ality, as a topic was started in which every mem- 
ber of society is now interested. 

“So Harton and his wife are divorced,” said John 
Seaford, in reply to a previous observation made by 
his guest, in which this piece of information came in 
as a corollary. “ This surprises me beyond measure. 
I thought he was opposed to divorce on principle, 
and his marriage was thought to be a most happy 
one.” 

“Yes,” was the reply, “but subsequent events 
showed entire incompatibility of temper, and mutual 
friends urged the dissolution of a bond that galled 
both parties; under the circumstances, it may have 
been the wisest course for them to take.” 

“ It would seem far wiser if each had tried to bear 
and forbear. No society can exist, if trifling differ- 
ences lead to dissolution. We would not have an 
army, a navy, or a body politic.” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


187 


“ I quite agree with you. Each of the high cou' 
tracting parties should endeavor to assimilate in 
tastes with the other. And when one of them pos- 
sesses gentle manners and refined feelings, assimila- 
tion should be a pleasing duty.” This was said with 
a glance at Laura. “ But do you not think the atti- 
tude of the Roman Church too conservative on the 
subject of divorce?” 

The question put thus made John Seaford hesitate 
for a moment. He believed the divorce laws would 
gradually undermine society, but he was not quite 
willing to say, “ The Catholic Church is not too 
conservative in this matter.” He therefore parried 
the point. 

‘‘A case may certainly arise, when mutual hap- 
piness would call for a dissolution of the marriage 
tie.” 

The guest bowed assent. 

“ But I do not approve of the laxity on this point 
which pervades society at the present day,” con- 
tinued the host; “it is fraught with evil, and pagan 
as well as Christian moralists condemned it.” 

« Nevertheless,” objected Warren, “some of the 
greatest amongst them approved of and practised it 


188 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


— Caesar and Cicero, *as well as Henry the Eighth 
and Luther.” 

And in each case I consider it left a blot on the 
character. His double divorce presents the ambi- 
tion of Caesar in its worst light; and the student’s 
admiration for the greatest of orators, receives a 
chill, when he learns that the father of his country 
repudiated his first wife to marry a wealthy woman. 
Henry the Eighth’s conduct towards Catherine of 
Aragon has left posterity a perfect type of womans 
hood, and a revolting example of man’s tyranny and 
wrong-doing. As to Luther, I could never under- 
stand why his conscience should revolt against ac- 
knowledging the authority of the Pope, and yet 
allow him to sanction bigamy in the Elector of 
Hesse.” 

At this point Mr. Mark Warren laid down his 
knife and fork, and with a grave expression put in. 

‘^My dear sir, remember how Luther showed up 
Romish superstition in the matter of indulgences; 
for that alone you will acknowledge him to be a 
great reformer. What monstrous presumption in 
the Latin Church to teach that sin could be forgiven 
by buying an indulgence ! What inconceivable 


A tale m TWO LANDS. 


189 


folly in its members to give credence to such doc- 
trine ! It is really deplorable ignorance, when one 
comes to think of it;” and the gentleman turned 
his eyes to the ceiling, as if deprecating the ven- 
geance of Heaven from such transgressors. 

John Seaford looked at his niece. He was too 
well-informed to be duped by the stereotyped slan- 
ders against Catholicity, in which little minds love 
to indulge; not caring, and often not knowing, that 
they have been refuted over and over again. 
Hence the merchant awaited the rejoinder he ex- 
pected Alice would give, and our heroine thus put 
the extinguisher on the worthy guest’s blaze of 
righteous indignation. 

‘‘Mr. Warren, I should like to know when the 
Catholic Church taught that sin could be forgiven 
by indulgences, and may I ask if you ever met a 
Catholic who believed it ! ” 

“My dear young lady, it is a well-known fact 
that such is the doctrine of the Roman Church, and 
I think we may assume it to be the belief of all who 
acknowledge the Pope’s authority.” 

“Pardon me, sir; it is very often found that pre- 
sumed facts are absolute fictions. Such, I assure 


190 


THE JOINT YENTUKE. 


you, is the case with regard to your opinion on in- 
dulgences and Catholic belief on this point of faith.” 

“ Then I would like to be posted on the question 
at issue.” This was said with the air of one who 
would intimate a generous willingness to hear what- 
ever might be urged in defence of a manifest error. 

‘‘ In the interests of religion and common sense, 
Mr. Warren, I am happy to inform you, the Catholic 
Church has always taught that contrition and a 
purpose of amendment can alone obtain forgiveness 
of sin, and such is the belief of all Catholics.” 

‘‘May I inquire your reason for thinking so?” 

“Because 1 am myself a member of the Catholi« 
Church, and have been fully instructed in its tenets.” 

Mr. Warreii was evidently taken aback. Not 
imagining a member of John Seaford’s family could 
be a Romanist,” he had counted on figuring as a 
shining light, religiously and argumentatively, by 
an onslaught on the Papacy and the Jesuits. These 
latter he was prepared to demolish with a cannonade 
of newspaper shot and shell, labeled by the fabrica- 
tor, “ Jesuit conspiracy against freedom of thought,” 
and Jesuit conspiracy against the government.” 
He now saw all points of attack would be vigorously 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


191 


defended, and proofs required for every assertion, 
so he prudently changed tactics. 

‘‘I must admit I have been under misapprehension 
on this subject. Miss Desmond; but what then do 
indulgences avail ?” 

“In merely remitting the temporal punishment 
due to sin after the offence is condoned. We know 
the forgiveness granted to David, on his repentance, 
was accompanied with a penalty ; this penalty is 
remitted by an indulgence which can be obtained 
by prayer and alms-deeds. An example from every- 
day life will illustrate this. A person condemned 
to death for high treason may receive pardon, 
though his person and effects remain under attainder; 
but this penalty, due to justice, may be afterwards 
remitted on account of meritorious service. So 
with the sinner who is a traitor to Divine Justice. 
However heinous the crime, a merciful Power will 
always receive the true penitent into favor ; but the 
offender should give evidence of his contrition. 
This ^evidence consists in prayers and good works, 
which, being offered up in communion with 'the 
body of the faithful, have still greater efficacy, and 


192 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


when worthily performed, they merit what is called 
an indulgence.” 

“Your attack on indulgences has been a windmill 
encounter, W arren,” put in the host, “ and it hardly 
proves your argument for Luther.” 

“I always yield in favor of a lady,” smiled the 
guest, with a polite wave of the hand. 

“It is good policy when the position is untenable.” 

“I see you deprive me of the merit of my inten- 
tions, and that is hardly fair, as I did not use any of 
my artillery against the abuses which prevailed in 
the beginning of the sixteenth century.” 

“ I suppose the Catholic Church, like all societies, 
has had worthless agents and disobedient subjects, 
but it is not just to make her responsible for mis- 
deeds she never sanctioned; and it appears the Coun- 
cil of Lateran condemned all the abuses you speak 
of. Besides, as I understand the question, such 
abuses were only in discipline, and did not affect 
dogma.” 

“ Thanks, uncle John,” said Alice; “ you have put 
the matter in a perfectly Catholic light.” 

“And I have to tender my acknowledgments for 
the light thrown on the subject,’ said the guest. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


193 


with an air of frankness and g-ood humor. ‘‘But 
Miss Laura has not allowed us to hear the music 
of her voice in this discussion,” he continued, turn- 
ing to the young lady ; “ and this is to he regret- 
ted, as we should then have melody and perfect 
harmony combined.” 

Laura made a brief reply to the compliment, and 
the conversation assumed a general turn. 

Mr Warren passed the evening in the drawings 
room, where he made strenuous efforts to render- 
himself agreeable. Laura received his attentions, 
politely, but with an air of constraint, the more so* 
when she observed her father’s eye directed toward, 
the window, where the guest poured forth his com-- 
pliments in abundant profusion. 

At length he took leave, and Mr. Seaford retired; 
to the library. 

fear you are not well, Laura,” said Alice, no*- 
ticing a weary look on her cousin’s usually bright 
face. 

“ Come to my room, Alice,” was the reply ; “ I 
have something to tell you.” 

On gaining her chambei, Laura locked the door, 


194 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


and, throwing herself on a lounge, gave way to an 
uncontrollable fit of weeping. 

‘What is the matter, dear Laura? You looked 
quite depressed all the evening.” 

“ The thought is torture. What will Frank Rood 
say to it?” 

“I do not understand you.” 

“I forgot that you know nothing about it yet. 
You would never imagine what papa wanted me 
for to-day.” 

“It must have been something interesting, else 
he would not have summoned you at that hour.” 

I thought so at the time, and at first anticipated 
an agreeable surprise; but I felt a nervous dread of 
impending evil, when he desired me to be seated, as 
he had a matter of importance to communicate.” 

“For yourself alone?” 

“ It concerned another, also, but there is no secret 
about it.” 

“Then tell me, quickly, Laura. I hope it will 
bring no trouble to you,” 

“ Trouble ! Alice, how did you like Mr. 


Warren?” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


195 


“ I did not form a very high opinion of him. But 
you are wandering from the subject.” 

‘‘ No — he is the subject. Fancy my being united 
to him.” 

“Laura! What do you mean? You surely are 
not engaged to Mr. Warren?” 

“No, thank Heaven; but papa told me he had 
strong reasons for favoring his suit — he knew him 
to be a man of worth, in high esteem for business 
capacity, and he had rendered efficient service to the 
firm. A chill came over me as papa said this, not so 
much on account of the words, as the manner in 
which they were uttered.” 

“ But how did you come to know Mr. Warren ? I 
never heard of him before.” 

“ He has had business relations with the firm for 
several years, and dined here on one occasion before 
you came. A few months since I met him casually, 
but he was changed so much in appearance, that I 
did not recognize him until he claimed acquaintance. 
Some people have a disagreeably retentive memory,” 
added Laura, with palpable intent to aim her shaft 
at a particular individual of the species. 

“Well, dear Laura, why not frankly tell your 


196 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


father the objection you entertain to an alliance 
with Mr. Warren? ’ 

“ Papa appears to have already decided the ques- 
tion in his own mind, and you know how determined 
he is when he resolves on anything. Oh, Alice ! 
what shall I do?” 

Alice could give no advice; she was struck dumb 
for the moment. She dared not counsel Laura io 
disobey her father, yet she shuddered at the thought 
of her generous, noble-minded cousin being united to 
a man for whom she could entertain no feeling of 
regard. The two girls had no secrets from each 
other. Laura knew that a certain Gerald Barry 
had spoken words of love to Alice, which were not 
yet forgotten; and she had in turn taken our heroine 
into confidence, regarding the preference which a 
Mr. Frank Rood expressed for brunettes in general, 
and her style of beauty in particular. 

‘‘Of course I can’t marry him, Alice,. without pa’s 
consent ” she remarked, one day, in reply to an im- 
peachment on the part of her cousin; “and pa would 
not be likely to consent at present, for Frank is only 
building up practice as a dentist, therefore we both 
avoid discussion as to the future; but if Frank 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


107 


should succeed, as he expects to do, then who knows 
— but sufficient for the day is the uncertainty 
thereof.” 

All this now recurred to our heroine's mind, paralyz- 
ing her powers of speech. But Laura was again 
weeping, and this aroused Alice. Drawing her 
cousin to her in an affectionate em*hrace, she kissed 
the soft cheek wet with tears, and whispered words 
of comfort. Laura gradually became calmer; hope 
revived a little; and when they separated for the 
night the cousins felt that a new link was added to 
the chain which had before bound them to each 
other. 

It was long before sleep visited the eyelids of 
either that night. Laura took mental photographs 
of Frank Rood with every variety of expression — 
surprise, entreaty, anger, and stoical indifference: 
and Mr. Mark Warren’s face loomed up before 
Alice’s vision in spite of all her efforts to banish it. 
Was it possible she had met him before, and where ? 
It must have been on the street, and yet it was not 
likely a mere passer-by would have left such an im- 
pression on her memory. Warren! Warren! Stay 
‘—could it be possible? Yes, it must be he— the 


198 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


man Captain Semmes called Guerenne, giving the 
French name an English accent. She remembered 
him now. He was slighter in appearance when she 
6rst saw him, and had only a light mustache, but he 
was surely the same man she saw lying insensible on 
the deck of the Vulture, and who afterwards showed 
so marked an interest in the young Frenchwoman. 
Who was she whom he had addressed as Julie? What 
had happened her? Could he have remembered her- 
self, and if so, why did he not speak of his having 
been on board the Vulture with her? Should she 
mention this to her uncle and Laura? She believed 
her surmise to be true, yet it might be only an 
accidental resemblance; 

“He is like the man I saw on board the Vulture,” 
was her last thought ere sleep descended on her 
senses. And now, reader, if you cannot find a 
better answer to the question, “What is he like?” 
we shall consider our heroine in possession of the 
situation, and retire from the field of conjecture 
until further developments arise. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


199 


? CHAPTER XL 

OLD ACQUAINTANCES MEET. 

Of Gerald’s life in college but little can or need 
be said. He worked earnestly and conscientiously, 
and he worked with a motive; but to him, like many 
others, teaching proved too irksome, too monoto- 
nous, and he longed for a profession which would 
afford a greater incentive to his ambitious aspira- 
tions, and enable him more speedily to open the 
world’s oyster. This profession, medicine, he had 
already chosen, and had diligently studied its pre- 
paratory branches during his two years of college 
life. These expired, we find him one morning 
declining a re-engagement with the President, who 
had been attracted by the young Irishman’s genlle- 
manly manners and sound scholarship. 

‘‘ I am very sorry to lose your services, Mr. 
Barry,” remarked the worthy old gentleman, “and 
would be willing to retain them at a higher figure 
than your last year’s salary. But I see you are bent 


200 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


on pursuing a new profession. Well, it’s a worthy- 
one, and I wish you success. You may change your 
mind yet, though; and should you do so within a 
month, please let me know, and I’ll still consider 
you a member of our corps. Do you go to New 
York straightway?” 

‘‘No, sir; I got a letter on yesterday from an 
old friend and classmate of mine, and I intend 
paying him and Boston a visit.” 

“ Good-bye, then. Safe journey, and write if you 
change your mind.” 

And thus it is that on the following evening we 
find the two chums shaking hands frantically, “ dear- 
old-boying” one another, and listen to Frank Rood’s 
enthusiastic rendering of “And doth not a meeting 
like this make amends,” etc., etc. 

“But here, have a weed, Gerald,” said Frank, 
after the first ebullitions of joy had passed. “What 
a lucky thing it was that I found you were at the 
college. You got my letter ?” 

Yes, and as I was leaving the day after I 
received it, I thought I would announce my own 
arrival. But how did you learn that I was in tThe 
college ? ” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


201 


“While pulling a canine out of a young shaver’s 
jaw, he was frightened at sight of my tools and 
began whimpering, ‘Ma, I don’t feel it ache at all, 
now ! ’ To distract his attention I began chatting 
with him about his college and professors ; hence 
my letter. But say, I have told you how that grace- 
less dog, Frank Rood, drew all his paternal moneys 
through love of drawing champagne corks, and after 
being drawn by want of the pecunia to emigrate to 
the States, has finally settled down to drawing teeth. 
And now draw your chair closer, and let us hear 
how ye worthy and accomplished Gerald Barry got 
into these waters.” 

Barry related the adventures that had befallen 
him since their correspondence had ceased. 

“And how do you like your role of high priest 
in the Diamastigosian festival?” asked his friend, 
lazily puffing out rings of smoke. 

“I do not like it at all; I most decidedly think it 
a ‘task,’ but by no means a ‘delightful’ one. So 
disgusted am I with teaching that I have seriously 
resolved on quitting it ” 

“Qui fit, Maecenas,’' murmured Frank. 

“And studying medicine.” 


202 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


‘‘Ah! not caring to minister to minds diseased, 
you will turn your attention to bodies. Well 
perhaps you could do worse,” responded Frank. 
“ When and where will you hang out your shingle ? ” 

“ How can I tell ? I have first to get my 
diploma.” 

“Diploma! My dear fellow, in this part of the 
world diplomas are played out. Get a dispensatory, 
a volume on therapeutics, another on surgery, and a 
sign with ‘Gerald Barry, Physician and Surgeon,’ 
on it; procure an office, and gain experience by 
practice.” 

Gerald laughed. “What would become of my 
patients while I was gaining experience after your 
fashion ? ” said he. 

“ Have you never heard what the ancient worthy, 
Hicocles, said ? That physicians were the happiest 
dogs in the world, seeing that light published their 
good deeds, while the earth hid all their bad ones. 
Poets may be mad, but that fellow must have been 
lucid when he uttered such an apothegm.” 

“But to convict you from the mouth of another 
ancient, ‘ Men’s evil deeds live after them ’.” 

“No matter, so long as they do not live with 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


203 


them Besides, those are the words of a madman 
who lost a kingdom for a petticoat.” 

That was an after-delusion.” 

Which goes to prove he was slightly non compos 
when haranguing the Romans.” 

‘‘ But have you not got a diploma, Frank ? ” 

“Certainly; there it is,” pointing to a framed 
document hanging conspicuously on the wall. 

“Why,” said Barry, inspecting it; “this is your 
Trinity Dip. for A. B. ! ” 

“What if it is? If inquiries be made, which 
never are, I will refer questions to this, which, 
being all Greek — or rather Latin — to them, satisfies 
efiectually.” 

“Shades of Galen ” 

“ And Hippocrates ! ” broke in Rood, joining heart- 
ily in Gerald’s laughter. “What modern cares a 
continental for the shades of the Siamese twins of 
ancient physic ? By the way, I have serious doubts 
as to applying the epithet ‘shade’ to the man of 
Pergamus. One Doctor Cowan passed through here 
some days ago, professing to cure back ache heart- 
ache, ear-ache, head-ache, et h-ache genera omnia, by 
means of certain drugs and decoctions. On asking 


204 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


him if he, like Galen, had been forced to travel for 
information on the virtues of herbs, he replied, 
‘ Galen, sir ! Galen ! I know him. D — d quack, 
sir ! gets all his practice by advertising ! ’ Seriously 
speaking,” resumed Frank, “ it is shameful to find the 
country flooded with Sangrados. I see you smile at 
my candor, but I flatter myself that I can now draw 
an eye-tooth and make a set of artificial grinders in 
a reputable manner, and consequently do not include 
myself in the list.” 

‘‘And to what do you attribute such a state of. 
things ? ” queried Gerald. 

“ To a great many things; to the toleration of em- 
pirics, the encouragement of patent medicines, the 
sale of diplomas, the low standard for admission and 
graduation in medical schools, the existence of too 
many one-horse medical colleges, and the disposition 
manifested by professors in the really good ones to 
extort money for teaching any specialty In no 

other to be continued, for there's the last bell 

for supper; so let us trot down stairs ” 

“ Frank,” said his friend, that evening, while in- 
dulging in some of his host’s sherry, and testing one 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


205 


of his much-lauded meerschaums, ‘‘ why do you not 
^et married ? ” 

The good Daphnis loves his ease,” was the reply. 

“ So I see.” Frank had leant back in his chair, 
extended his long legs till they found a harbor of 
refuge on the table, and, with a meerschaum be- 
tween his lips, looked “ the good Daphnis” all over. 

“ But does matrimony run counter to ease ? ” pur* 
sued Gerald. 

“ What does the old Scandinavian sayr 

“ • From women oft does sorrow spring: 

Much evil do they hear, 

Though fashioned purely fair, 

And chased by Heaven’s Almighty Kingl ’ **' 

“ And what does Frank Rood say ? ” 

“ To your second question, he refers you to Mrs; 
Caudle’s curtain lectures; respecting the first, he is a 
staunch supporter of the maxim of Pythagoras, that 
many things, especially love, are best learned late.” 

And are there no blondes or brunettes in your 
neighborhood ? ” 

‘‘Plenty of them. I will introduce you to as 
lovely a blonde, and as captivating a brunette, as 
ever breathed.” 


206 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


‘‘ Thanks. But has no daughter of Eve, in Boston 
or elsewhere, taught my dentist friend the royal road 
to love?” 

“Alas, no! I am the veriest dunce existing at 
learning the rudiments of the ars amoris. If you 
open a lyceum here, Gerald, and teach the accom- 
plishment, I promise to become a pupil, however 
unpromising.” 

“Agreed, provided you insure the attendance of 
the lovely blonde ” 

“And captivating brunette? So be it. To-mor- 
row evening you will have the opportunity of person- 
ally solicititig their patronage, and may take the 
liberty of naming me sponsor for your character and 
attainments.” 

“ And may I ask the names of my pupils ? ” lazily 
inquired Barry. 

“Of course. Let us call the roll. ‘Francis 
Rood ! ’ Present. And here allow me to remark, 
my very noble and approved good master, that the 
‘ tender thought,’ the ‘young idea,’ and the ‘youth- 
ful mind’ are mine; thine be the pleasing task to 
rear the one, to make the second shoot, and pour 
fresh instruction o’er the third.” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


207 


Good ! I accept martyrdom,” said Gerald, with 
a smile. 

And now for the name of pupil number two; the 
brunette, for instance?” 

“ Laura Seaford.” 

“ Laura Seaford ! ” cried Barry, with a start. 

“ Absent, professor ; but I drink her health,” re- 
marked his friend, who had gone in search of his 
tobacco pouch, and now again resumed his indolent 
position. 

“ Seaford ! Seaford ! ” repeated Gerald, becoming 
visibly agitated, as his memory went back three 
years, with a sudden stride. ‘‘And you are well 
acquainted with her family? Do you happen to 
know if she has a friend — a relative, called Alice 
Desmond ? ” 

“Do I? My dear fellow, you’ve just named pupil 
number three — the lovely blonde.” 

“ Alice Desmond here ! ” exclaimed Barry, in 
amazement. 

“Not here^ my worthy dominie; she, too, is un- 
avoidably absent, but a hack would transport you to 
her in less than ten minutes. How is this, though ? ” 
resumed Frank, himself somewhat surprised. “You 


208 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


appear acquainted with all three of your future 
pupils — with one of them particularly so, I must 
say,” added he, mischievously. 

“ And her mother, Mrs. Desmond ? Is she here, 
too ? ” queried Gerald, disregarding his friend’s 
question. 

‘‘No; Mrs. Desmond died nearly three years ago. 
She was always delicate, I have heard, and the voy- 
age over the Atlantic proved too much for her 
system. But again, I ask you, how is this, Gerald? 
You seem to have fallen on a nest of acquaintances, 
and, as yet, I’m in downright ignorance. Come, fill 
up your glass, and have no secrets from your alter 
jego.” 

But little had been said in the correspondence 
between the two friends regarding the domestic 
habits and life of Gerald, and if the name of Des- 
mond had ever occurred to Rood, it was associated 
with naught but a clever classical scholar who had 
prepared Barry for college. Now, then, for the first 
time, he heard the details of the Professor’s 
paternal interest in his friend, the motherly love of 
Mrs. Desmond, and the daily companionship be- 
tween him and her daughter. Gerald said nothing. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


209 


even now, regarding his love for Alice, or his pro- 
posal for her hand. He probably had his own 
reasons for not doing so, though he could not well 
define them ; hut Frank, while forbearing to press 
the question, made a shrewd guess how hard his 
friend was hit. 

“And you never heard from them since they 
sailed?’' asked he. 

“No,” replied Gerald; “Mrs. Desmond promised 
to write, but she never did.” 

“ I think that can he accounted for, since she died 
in New York a few days after her arrival.” 

Gerald asked himself, mentally, “Why did not 
Alice write?” 

“Is she much changed?” said he aloud, after a 
pause. 

Frank laughed merrily. “ My dear hoy,” said he, 
“you forget that I never had the pleasure of trans- 
lating Latin odes or Greek hexameters with the 
lady, and that my acquaintance dates hack hut a 
year or so. But so far as good looks, a sweet 
temper, and a loving disposition go, I don’t believe 
there can he any deterioration.” 

“And she has lived with her uncle ever since? 


210 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


What kind of person is Mr. Seaford? What does 
he do?” 

‘‘John Seaford, sir, is accounted a thorough busi- 
ness man, and deals extensively in the wine trade. 
He is well read, too, and there are very few topics 
on which he cannot discourse cleverly when so 
minded. In short, his wealth, pride, and education 
could satisfy the most fastidious of the upper ten- 
dom in New York, Washington, and Boston. 
Nevertheless, he is not a favorite of mine.” 

“Why?” 

“Oh, I can hardly say. Perhaps it is that he 
differs so much from others of his class in not assum- 
ing too much on his money, boasting over much on 
his ancestors, and not perpetually airing his knowl- 
edge. You can’t fathom him. He will listen at- 
tentively to your talk for half an hour on a topic, and 
at the end a remark will drop from him which shows 
that he understands the subject more thoroughly 
than yourself.” 

“Queer reasons for dislike!” said his friend, 
smiling. 

“I didn’t say I <7i5-liked ; but, but— I don’t 
like him, all the same. He is too cold, too grave. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


211 


too set in his judgments to please me. I like to 
hear reasons for a person’s saying or doing so and 
so. John Seaford seldom gives a reason for his 
actions or his opinions. But come, Gerald, we have 
talked quite enough about our neighbors, and you 
must feel rather tired. Take up that light and I’ll 
show you your room.” 

Tired though Gerald Barry was, sleep did not 
visit his eyes for several hours that night. When 
it did come, he was wandering in dreamland, with 
Alice Desmond for his companion. 

Had Frank Rood seen John Seaford that same 
evening, he would have had but little reason to call 
him cold or grave. The merchant was in his library, 
pacing the room steadily back and forth, his hands 
tightly clasped behind his back, and his features 
exhibiting more of agitation than he could be credi- 
ted with by his acquaintances. 

Back and forth, back and forth he went; while 
seated near the center table, his face partly hidden 
by his hand, was a gentleman whom the reader 
already knows as Mr. Mark Warren. 

John Seaford at length stopped opposite his com- 
panion and said, ‘‘ But in such a crisis as this, Mark, 


212 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


do you not know that the withdrawal of your money 
from the business means ruin — utter ruin for me ? ” 
“I trust not, sir; and ” 

‘‘You trust not!” interrupted the merchant. 
“But still, you know well it does. Tourjee’s note is 
due this week, Germaine’s next, while Breiss and 
Kupper and the other German houses will have to 
be met in a month. Where under heaven will the 
money come from if you withdraw now ? ” 

“But really, sir,” said Mr. Warren in a tone of ex- 
postulation, “ I cannot see how my ruin would bene- 
fit you any.” 

“ Your ruin ! What are you dreaming about, 
Warren? Are you not aware that in three months 
the acceptances on Campbell, Reynolds, Hutchins, 
and some half dozen others will be due — more than 
sufficient to cover the amount of our present liabili- 
ties? You know this well, and for the life of me, I 
cannot conjecture your motives in acting as you pro- 
pose. It is hardly fair on your part,” added the 
merchant, bitterly, “to kick away the foundation 
from a house that has built you up. It certainly is 
most strange from one who but lately solicited my 
daughter’s hand.” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


213 


This last sentence was accompanied by a hardly 
repressed sneer. 

“Very true,” remarked Warren, calmly; “and 
were I only sure of the alliance, I would risk all.” 

“ Risk ! ” broke out Mr. Seaford, impatiently. “ I 
tell you there is none. If there were, sir, do you 
suppose I would be mean enough to drag down 
another with myself ; or weak enough to prolong my 
credit by some trifling delay ? But,” and here he sat 
down opposite his guest, “but you speak of Laura as 
if I had not sanctioned your proposal ? ” 

“ The young lady herself does not appear equally 
well inclined,” replied Mr. Warren, meditatively. 

“ The young lady herself has been in the habit of 
following her father’s wishes hitherto, sir; and I see 
no reason for expecting disobedience from her now. 
You have not as yet proposed to her?” 

“No,” said Mr. Mark, rather grimly; “one can’t 
well propose to a girl that looks coldly on you, and 
talks with an evident desire to hear you say ‘good- 
by.’” 

“Nonsense! the girl is young and not accus- 
tomed to enamored wooers,” replied John Seaford, 
peevishly. 


214 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


“Are you so certain on that point?” inquired the 
other with emphasis. 

“ Certain on what ? ” 

“That I am the only enamored wooer Laura 
has?” 

“ Whom else, then ? ” 

“ I can’t say — I don’t know exactly, but it seems 
as if Miss Seaford experienced less uneasiness in Mr. 
Rood’s presence than in mine.” 

“ Excuse me if I think you mad,” replied the mer- 
chant, sternly. “The gentleman, like my lawyer 
and my doctor, visits her more from professional 
courtesy than anything else. My daughter’s position 
in life, her tastes and sentiments are so incompatible 
with but, pshaw ! the supposition is simply ridic- 

ulous. One word for all: when Laura Seaford mar- 
ries, she marries with her father’s consent, and that 
consent only a man of worth and integrity can ob- 
tain. Are you satisfied?” 

“Yes, sir, fully so,” replied Warren, whose face 
had brightened considerably during the merchant’s 
speech. 

“ And now, Mark, regarding those notes ? ” 

“ They can be met, sir, for my money remains 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


215 


where it is at present. You have shown me there 

is no risk. Even if there were ” and while saying 

good-night, an impressive clasp of his hand on that 
of Mr. Seaford’s concluded the sentence. 

“I know better than yourself that my money is 
quite safe for the present,” thought Mark Warren, 
as he walked to his hotel. “ Difficulties may come, 
though ; Campbell, and some other houses, are 
shaky, and may burst any day. If they do, I 
wonder whether I would be so easily convinced by 
John Seaford’s logic, or so much inclined to wed 
John Seaford’s daughter?” 


216 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


CHAPTER XIL 

FRANK ROOD LEARNS THE “ART OP LOVE,” AND 
SEEKS THE “REMEDY.” 

Next evening saw our two friends ushered into 
the parlor, where sat Laura and Alice, the two latter 
enjoying those aids to the “ far niente,” rocking- 
chairs, and indulging in occasional purs of conver- 
sation. 

“ Good evening, ladies,” said Frank, as he entered 
the room, Gerald following close behind. “Miss 
Desmond, allow me to introduce to you an old friend 
of mine, a still older one of yours — ^Mr. Gerald 
Barry.” 

“ Gerald ! ” exclaimed Alice, starting from her 
chair, and her hands raised to her bosom to still its 
palpitations. 

“ Gerald ! ” How thankful she was that the room 
had not yet been lighted. 

“ Gerald indeed it is, Alice,” said our hero, ad- 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


217 


vancing and taking her hand; “ and rejoiced at the 
good fortune which enables him to see you again.” 

“ Miss Seaford— Mr. Barry.” 

Between the bowing and the usual remarks on 
either side, Alice had time to compose herself some- 
what, and when she resumed her seat, no tell-tale 
flush or tremor of voice was apparent. Some general 
conversation followed, which was soon cut short by 
Laura’s saying, “ Mr. Rood, I want to have your 
opinion on a pretty book of engravings which Tve- 
got; besides,” with a smile, “I know that Mr. Barry- 
and Alice are longing to hear each other’s adventures^ 
by flood and field, since last they parted.” 

And so, nothing loth, Frank followed her to the 
other end of the room, while Barry took a seat on, 
the lounge, near Alice. 

‘‘Oh, Gerald! I am so glad to see you! I 
almost thought we would never again meet ! ” 

“I hope the wish was not father to the thought,” 
replied he, with a smile. 

“I feel inclined to punish you for the remark by 
saying ‘yes’; however. I’ll be candid, and say it 
was not. But come, I am longing, as Laura said, to 
hear all about you since the Vulture separated us.” 


218 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Gerald told his story — his failure in getting on 
the Civil Service, his disappointment and ennui, his 
dejection at receiving no account of Alice 

“ You’ve heard ” said his fair companion, 

softly, and interrupting him by placing her hand on 
his arm. 

“Yes,” answered Gerald, kindly; “but not till 
Frank told me last evening. How deeply you must 
have suffered, Alice, and how much I wronged you 
both in supposing that the pleasures of the world 
only had caused your silence ! ” 

“ But I did write, Gerald,” said Alice. 

“You did?” 

“Yes; I wrote to Father Walsh about three 
months after my arrival, and requested him to ac- 
quaint you of mother’s death.” 

“ Ah ! that accounts for it. I was in the States 
about that time; and poor Father Walsh, I’m afraid, 
never got your letter, since I heard that shortly after 
my leaving Ireland he caught typhoid fever and died 
in a week.” 

“ O dear Father Walsh ! ” murmured Alice. “ And 
he was so kind, so good to me — to all ! ” 

“True, indeed; and it was in the discharge of his 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


219 


duties ,that he died, for he caught the fever while 
administering the sacraments to one of his flock.” 

“And now, Alice,” said Gerald, when he had 
finished his narrative, “tell me how you have fared.” 

“Your friend, Mr. Rood, has already. told you the 
only incident in my life worth relating since we 
parted.” 

“But you are happy?” asked Barry, anxiously. 

“ Yes, indeed ; far more so, perhaps, than what I 
deserve. My uncle has been very kind, and Laura 
— Laura, Gerald, is all I could desire, even in a 
sister.” 

Laura now came forward, saying, “There, you 
two have had ample time to entertain each other. 
We must now enlist both for the general good. 
Mr. Rood tells me that Mr. Barry has a good bari- 
tone voice, and Alice’s alto, with my soprano, is 
beginning to need a variety. What say you?” 

And this was the beginning of a few very happy 
weeks for our four acquaintances. The gentlemen 
were constant visitors at Mr. Seaford’s, and those 
were halcyon evenings, when Frank, with his violin, 
accompanied Laura on the piano, while Alice and 
Gerald sang delicious little morsels from their 


220 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


favorite operas. Mr. Seaford was not an nnfre- 
quent listener, since he loved music, and liked to 
discuss with Barry the scientific questions of the 
day, particularly the accordance of Genesis with 
geology. Mr. Mark Warren also* was an occasional 
evening visitor ; but as his knowledge of, or taste 
for Genesis, geology, or the chromatic scale was 
very meagre, he contented himself with endeavoring 
to absorb Laura’s attention and conversation be- 
tween the musical pauses. She listened to him 
calmly enough, but always contrived quietly to 
change the current of his observations whenever 
he put himself forward in the character of an 
amorous wooer. 

Frank Rood had laughingly asserted to Barry that 
he was heart-whole; this may have been so, but 
certain it is that he snapped a violin string each 
evening that Mr. Warren was present. When 
Gerald twitted him with the fact, however, he re- 
torted by maliciously inquiring if Barry was to 
become teacher or pupil in the lyceum, and broke 
out into peals of merriment, when his friend insisted 
that he was still sane enough to conduct the insti- 
tution. 


A TALE I]Sr TWO LANDS. 


221 


And did Gerald love Alice still? We too would 
burst into cachinnation at his denial ; but he never 
declared it. He may have felt it, looked it, smiled 
it; yet he never spoke it. Why should he? Of 
course, he often found it *hard to resist the winning 
beauty of her face, and to restrain the rapid pulsa- 
tions of his heart if one of those fair ringlets but 
touched his cheek as she bent forward to scan the 
music sheet. Sometimes did he mentally shower 
aught but benisons on Frank and Laura for being 
present ; oftener, however, did he bless them for 
preventing what he felt would be rank folly on his 
part. ‘‘What business has a poor devil like me,” 
used he soliloquize of nights, “ with hardly sufficient 
money to defray the expenses of my medical course, 
to entail struggling poverty and wretched respecta- 
bility on any one ? If I only had — if ! Humph ! ” 
One evening they had assembled in the drawing- 
room, and collected round the piano. The afternoon 
had been a merry one to all, for they had been out 
on that most delightful of excursions, a berrying 
party. Frank, as a Roland, to some pleasantry of 
Gerald’s on him, had told the two girls about the 
lyceum, and expatiated in a most extravagant style 


222 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


on his friend’s fitness for teaching the ars et re- 
medium amoris.” Gerald was bantered most un- 
mercifully, and felt really relieved when Frank 
walked off to pick berries with Laura, leaving but 
a single opponent, from whose lips banter on such 
a topic was delightfully endurable to our hero. 

“Now, Fr Mr. Rood, are you ready?” asked 

Laura. 

Frank screwed his fiddle strings a little higher, 
gave a few preliminary flourishes with the bow, and 
off they dashed into the realms of song and music. 
It might have been fancy on his part, but Gerald 
thought that, when his gaze rested momentarily on 
Alice’s face, while he sang — 

** Though I no more behold thee, 

Yet is thy name a spell ” — 

a faint blush suffused her charming features. 
Presently Laura and his friend retired to a window, 
leaving the others discussing the merits of some 
newly published melodies. “Here is ‘Love in a 
Cottage,”’ cried Alice, humming a few bars. “How 
do you like it ? ” 

“Almost as badly as I do the reality,” replied 
Gerald, laughing. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


223 


‘‘Ah! you, I dare say, agree with the Frenchman 
who compared true love to an apparition, something 
which everybody speaks of, but very few have seen.” 

“You are in justice hound to warn me against 
saying anything which might hereafter tend to crim- 
inate me.” 

“ Does not that speech sound like a confession of 
guilt?” 

“No; merely an appeal to her who has arrested 
me,” he answered, looking full at her. 

“Poor prisoner !” said Alice, laughing; “it is high 
time to give the warning to which you have alluded.” 

“ Suppose that I apply for the Habeas Corpus act ? ” 

“What then?” 

“You must assign your reasons for holding me in 
custody.” 

“Prisoner at the bar ! do you not confess to being 
a voluntary captive?” demanded Alice, assuming a 
mock magisterial tone and attitude. 

“Even so, most puissant sovereign.” 

“Know, then, that for thy temerity we sentence 
thee ” 

“ To the altar,” suggested Gerald. 

“ Out of thy own mouth, wretch, do we condemn 


224 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


thee to the halter. For contempt of court, in break- 
ing in on our sentence, we furthermore confiscate thy 
goods to the amount of two dollars and a half; to 
show our royal clemency, we will invest a like sum, 
and with the total purchase a ticket in the ‘ Grand 
Union Lottery.’ Behold the inducements ! ” and 
she picked up one of those pamphlets — common 
enough at the time — in which prizes ranging from 
one hundred thousand dollars to a dollar were prom- 
ised to subscribers. 

“Will not your majesty graciously deign to alter 
your sentence into ‘your money or your life’?” in- 
quired the condemned “wretch,” producing the 
amount he had been mulcted in. 

“ In consideration of your youth we will grant you 
a respite, and if the joint venture prove successful 
in gaining the mammoth prize, our majesty may find 
herself in so joyous a mood as to present you with 
your liberty.” 

Alice blushed deeply when Gerald whispered in 
reply— 

“If love his captive bind with ties so dear, 

How sweet to be in amorous tangles held ! ” 

Next day found Gerald sitting in Frank’s office, 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


225 


smoking a meersckaum and awaiting the return of its 
master. Rood had proposed to Laura Seaford during 
the berrying excursion, had received the avowal of 
her love, and now left Gerald to answer all inquiries 
from his patients, while he went “to receive the 
paternal consent and blessing.” Though Frank 
spoke these words lightly, Gerald knew well that his 
confidence was in a great measure assumed, and that 
in reality he felt more nervous in having to face Mr. 

' Seaford than he would before a pistol at ten paces’ 
distance. The nervous feeling was no way dimin- 
ished by Frank’s having heard of Warren’s suit from 
Laura’s lips. 

“ Why did you not tell me of this sooner, Laura ? ” 
asked he, as they stood, the day before, near a bush 
loaded with tempting whortleberries. 

“How could I?” was the reply. “You know, dear 
Frank,” with a blush, “that I did not know you 
cared so much for me.” 

“ What a story ! ” said he, gaily. “ But no matter, 
Laura; if there were twenty Mark Warrens, you 
love only me, and that must weigh with your 
father.” 

Laura gave a little sigh; but young love soon 


226 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


brought back the smiles and made the entire day one 
of unalloyed delight. The morrow brought recollec- 
tion, however, and scarcely had Frank jumped out of 
bed when he muttered, “By Jove ! I’d as soon have 
half a dozen molars pulled as face John Seaford to- 
day ! ” He has gone on his mission of love, and 
Gerald, after wishing him success, remains smoking 
at the windows and watching his friend as he saun- 
ters up the street. Let us remain with Gerald and 
listen to his musings. 

“ Poor devil ! he looks uneasy enough in his best 
clothes, and makes it a point to talk with every pass- 
ing acquaintance as if he suspected that his destina- 
tion and object were known. There, he has reached 
the corner, and, with a furtive glance behind, to make 
sure that he is not the observed of all observers, 
he vanishes. I hope he will be successful. How 
pleasantly will Laura gild his life, and cause him to 
shudder at the recollection of all the abominations 
of bachelorhood ! How all his wants will be pro- 
vided for, his pleasures shared, and his cares 
smoothed ! When I obtain my diploma, I must hint 
my anxiety to see him in married life. W'e will then 
have once more our evening concerts, and Alice and 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


227 


I will sing all our pieces. We would get up berrying 
parties. Ah ! good idea ! Of course, I would visit 
them in the Summer, and while helping Alice to pick 
berries, could I not follow Frank’s example and ask 
her to make me happy for life? We would have to 
wait a little while, a year or so, till I could amass 
a fair share of the world’s goods, and give Alice a 
chance of housekeeping. A year ! why it would pass 
over quickly, and only enable us to know and correct 
our little faults. Has Alice any faults, I wonder? 
I know that I have a few, and would prefer her not 
to be immaculate. No; I am afraid that she has not 
even one failing which I could pride myself on 
eradicating.” 

Tobacco! O Tobacco ! wondrous magician ! We 
humbly beg pardon for that slap in the face which 
you received some chapter or so back. No longer 
do we mock at the eulogy paid thee by a distinguished 
writer: “He who doth not smoke hath either known 
no great grief, or refuseth himself the softest con- 
solation next to that which comes from heaven.” 
No longer do we doubt that thou — thou, indeed, art 

“The fragrant leaf whose magic balm 
Can, like Nepenthe, all our sufferings charm.” 


228 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Who else, we ask, but thou, as embodied in a meer- 
schaum, could’st have given to Gerald Barry, Alice, 
a practice worth five thousand dollars a year, a horse 
and buggy, a house with all the appurtenances of 
library, pictures, Brussels carpets, and several little 
cherubs toddling thereon — all these ere Frank 
Rood’s return ? 

“Hallo!” said Gerald, “you look as if you had 
come from consulting Trophoniirs ! ” 

“Ay, and I have heard the oracle,” gloomily 
replied Frank, throwing himself on a chair. 

“ Bad luck?” 

“Rejected ! ” 

' Gerald remained silent, knowing that the explana- 
tion would shortly come. Presently Frank began 
pacing the room, and at length broke out — 

“Of all the arrogant old idiots that exist, Seaford 
bears the palm ! Rejected, and without a single 
valid reason — a reason at all, indeed ! What do you 
think of a man telling me, when I proposed for his 
daughter’s hand, that he declined the honor; and on 
asking his objections, that he did not feel himself 

bound to assign any ! The supercilious ” 

“ Did you tell him that Laura loved you ? ” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


229 


“I did; and got for answer, that he did not pre- 
tend to control the affections of his daughter, hut 
that, notwithstanding the possibility of the fact 
which I mentioned, his decision remained unaltered.” 

‘‘Did you see Laura?” queried Gerald, after a 
pause. 

“ ^^o. On parting, he made a low bow — confound, 
his sneering politeness ! — and intimated that it would 
be better for all further intimacy between me and" 
his family to cease. There, Gerald, do not bother 
me with any more questions, like a good fellow.. 
Smoke, read, write, do something or other, and let 
me get over this matter as best I can. I dare say I 
will be all right in a day or two, and if Crates’ two 
remedies for love — hunger and time — prove of no< 
avail, I can buy a rope and try the efficacy of his 
third.” 

It was a bitter jest, but his friend was glad to hear- 
him utter anything savoring of his usually humorous 
disposition. So Gerald followed his request; and af- 
ter a few days Frank became somewhat like his 
usual self, save that he avoided all mention of J ohn 
Seaford and his daughter. 


230 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

LAURA SEAFORD’s DERNIER RESSORT. 

About an hour after Frank Rood had left Mr. 
Seaford’s house, Laura issued from her father’s 
library. Her face was deathly pale and her counte- 
nance betrayed emotion, the more visible from the 
violent effort made to restrain it. Having gained 
her bed-room she stood as if transfixed, white and 
still as a statue of marble. Suddenly a cold tremor 
shot upwards through her frame, a something crept 
to her throat threatening momentary suffocation, and 
a mortal dizziness seemed to possess her. She in- 
voluntarily grasped for support at a table near by. 
Her hand touched the little bouquet of forget-me-nots 
which Frank had culled for her the previous day. 
As her gaze rested upon it, another revulsion took 
place in her feelings; and a better one, for the dread- 
ful symptoms were dispelled, and with a low moan 
she sunk on the floor, sobbed hysterically, and kissed 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


231 


repeatedly the poor flowers, while she murmured, 
“Frank! Frank!” 

And thus, in all the abandonment of grief, did 
Alice find her cousin. 

“ Laura ! dear Laura ! ” cried she, sinking beside 
her, and pillowing the dark tresses next her own 
brown ones; “what is the matter? What does this 
mean ? ” 

Seeing her terrible distress, however, she forbore 
asking further questions till the paroxysm had sub- 
sided. When Laura grew calmer, she again ques- 
tioned her. 

“ Oh, Alice ! Frank — father has forbidden me 
ever seeing Frank again ! What will I do ? ” 

Of course Laura had confided to her cousin the 
love episode of the preceding day, and Alice was 
told that Frank would ask Mr. Seaford’s consent that 
morning. She pitied both, and now strove to speak 
words of encouragement. 

“Was uncle very angry, Laura?” asked she. 

“No, not in words; but he looked so stern and 
used such cold, determined language that I wish he 
were angry. I would have more hope of his relent- 
ing. As it is, I feel there is none,” and here it 


232 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


looked as if another hysterical spasm would attack 
the speaker. 

“ Tell me what uncle said,” said Alice, after a short 
pause, desiring rather to break the sad silence than 
to hear words whose import she already divined. 

“ Have I not already told you? ” replied Laura, with 
some impatience. ‘‘If you want his exact words, 
though,” continued she, bitterly, “here they are. 
Heaven knows they were few enough, and I’m not 
likely to forget them in a life-time. ‘Laura,’ said 
he, ‘Mr. Rood has just paid me the honor of solicit- 
ing your hand. I have declined. Do you wish to 
know my reasons? I refused them to him; I now 
give them to you. One is, that I can never think of 
Mr. Rood as a suitor for my daughter ; the other is, 
that you are already engaged to Mark Warren. Mr. 
Rood, of course, will pay no more visits to my 
house.’ 'Now, Alice, you know all that I do.” 

“And did you say nothing, Laura? Did you not 
try to ” 

“ Say anything ! Try to shake him ! It would be 
useless, and so would you say, Alice, had you but 
looked at his face and heard his tones. Oh ! God 
help me and pity poor Frank ! ” and, spite of her 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


233 


cousin’s caresses and soothing words, the tears rained 
freely. 

“ But, surely,” exclaimed Alice, “ he cannot mean 
that you are engaged to Mr. Warren?” 

“ Mean ! He distinctly said I was. He considers 
the mere announcement of the fact from him as suf- 
ficient to have it accepted so by me. After all,” 
added the girl, with a hitter laugh, “ what matters it 
to whom or how I am engaged since I cannot marry 
Frank?” 

“ Laura ! Laura ! pray, don’t speak so,” said her 
cousin, anxiously. “Let us trust that uncle will look 
more favorably on the matter, and do not abandon 
hope till further trial. If we could only show him 
that this Mr. Warren is not the upright and worthy 
man he believes him to be, he might relent in time 
towards Frank.” 

Poor drowning Laura grasped at the straw, and 
eagerly exclaimed, “ Oh, Alice ! if we only could ! 
But can you ? Do you know anything about the — 
the wretch ? ” 

Alice sighed inwardly. She saw that she had 
aroused hopes in her cousin’s mind, and trembled at 
the knowledge of their frailty. But it seemed some- 


234 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


thing to awake Laura from her utter despondency, 
and the straw — though but a straw — remained. So 
she said: 

“Yes, dear Laura, I know, or think I know some- 
thing about the man; but whether your father will 
view the circumstance in the unfavorable light that I 
do, is more than I can say. Let us pray God that he 
may, if I be right. And now I’ll not speak or listen 
to another word till all traces of tears have van- 
ished.” And to Laura’s repeated inquiries of what 
it was that she knew about Mark Warren, Alice 
would only reply, “Time will tell.” 

The rest of that day Alice employed chiefly in re- 
calling the scene she had witnessed on board the 
Vulture, and pondering over the conversation she 
had heard between the young girl and Mark Warren. 
That the man was Warren she felt thoroughly con- 
vinced; and she now carefully went over and 
weighed every circumstance preparatory to laying 
the matter before her uncle. The more effectually to 
recall every act, look and word, and to avoid ex- 
aggerating or diminishing aught, she took the 
trouble of writing down the entire details, from the 
moment the Vulture had received on board the ship- 


A TALE IN’ TWO LANDS. 


235 


wrecked passengers, to the arrival of their vessel in 
New York. Having conscientiously performed her 
task, she carefully read it over. 

“ It does not seem very conclusive, after all,” said 
she, with a sigh. “ Circumstantial evidence a lawyer 
would call it. Such as it is, however, uncle must 
hear and judge it. Such as it is,” added she, after a 
reflective pause. I would rather cut off my right 
hand — both hands, than marry Mark H. Warren. 
By the way, I wonder what the H. stands for? 
Hyena, Laura would probably say; hypocrite, would 
be my opinion.” 

It was with a nervous fluttering at the heart that 
Alice entered the library next morning. 

‘‘Are you very busy, uncle?” asked she, timidly. 

“ I am just now ; but if you have anything to say, 
say it,” was the not over-gracious response. 

“Laura is very miserable, uncle.” Alice stam- 
mered rather than spoke the words. As Mr. Seaford 
vouchsafed no reply, she added, in a low voice, “ I 
fear that her affection for Mr. Rood is very 
strong ” 

The merchant’s brows contracted, and he seemed 
as if about to speak. He did not do so, however, 


236 


THE JOINT VENTUEB. 


but opened the account-book over which he had been 
poring, as if he would dismiss both the subject and 
the speaker. 

Alice was resolved, though, so she resumed in 
somewhat clearer tones, “ And I know that her per- 
sonal dislike for Mr. Warren is equally great.” 

Mr. Seaford looked up and said, ‘‘Alice, you will 
be good enough to remember that I do not wish to 
hear one of those names mentioned again. As for 
Laura’s dislike to Mr. Warren, it is about as unrea- 
sonable as your own; and you have none.” 

“But I do dislike Mr. Warren, uncle, and I think 
I can show reasons for doing so.” 

“Really, Alice,” said he, impatiently, “I am quite 
busy at present, and have no time to listen to 

“But I beg, uncle, that you will listen to what 
I’ve got to say. It is not much, and may serve to 
undeceive you in the high estimate which you enter- 
tain of Mr. Warren.” 

Alice spoke so entreatingly and earnestly, that 
John Seaford closed his book once more and leant 
back resignedly in his chair. Taking this as an 
assent, Alice proceeded to relate the episode that 
occurred during her voyage. She dwelt on the 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


237 


attitude of tlie woman, her passionate words over 
the seemingly lifeless body of Guerrin, her joy at 
his recovery, the evident understanding that existed 
between the two, and the subsequent conversation 
between them which she had accidentally overheard. 

‘‘And now, uncle,” concluded she, “I would stake 
my existence that this man who called himself 
Guerrin, on board the Vulture, is he who now calls 
himself Mark Warren!” 

“And if so, what conclusion do you draw?” asked 
her uncle. 

“ The least guilty conclusion I can draw for Mr. 
Warren is — that this woman was his wife.” 

John Seaford smiled. “You conclude from very 
weak premises, I must say,” remarked he, dryly. 
“What is your argument but a succession of ‘ifs’? 
J/' this Madam Julie was Madam Guerrin; this 
Madam Guerrin was Guerrin’s wife ; if this Guerrin 
was Mark Warren ” 

“I am sure of that,” interrupted Alice, firmly. 

“ Well, even should t/iaf ‘if ’ be true, how can you 
reasonably deduce the likelihoods of the other ‘ ifs ’ ? 
I think, Alice, that your motives for dislike are as 


238 


THE JOINT VENTUEE, 


unreasonable as Laura’s, and of the two, not quite 
so fair towards the object of them.” 

“But will you not at least ask Mr. Warren if he 
was ever on board the Vulture, and under an 
assumed name?” said Alice, in dismay, at her 
failure. 

“Well, yes, if you wish it,” testily replied her 
uncle. “Mr. Warren is at present in Philadelphia, 
and will not return for a week. When he comes 
back I’ll question him. There, now, leave me, for I 
am very busy.” 

“ Stay ! ” said he, as Alice was opening the door. 
“ Have you mentioned anything about this to 
Laura ? ” 

“Ho, not as yet,” replied his niece. 

“Keep silent, then, till I have spoken to Mr. 
Warren. You must see how unfair it would be to 
excite Laura’s prejudices till such time as Mr. War- 
ren can deny or explain away the charge you have 
brought forward.” 

This was but just; so Alice assented, and left the 
room. 

The week passed gloomily enough for both girls. 
Gerald Barry occupied the thoughts of one, Frank 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


239 


Rood of the other. Mark Warren was thought of 
by both. The piano lay silent — as silent as Frank’s 
violin, which reposed in its case near the pedal. 
Cheerfulness had departed with music. Laura 
seemed outwardly resigned, and avoided mentioning 
Frank Rood’s name. But her cheeks lost color, her 
step its elasticity, and more than once did Alice 
observe the traces of weeping on her cousin’s face. 
She had questioned Alice concerning the interview 
with Mr. Seaford; but, obtaining no definite reply, 
had ceased, and now apparently took no further 
interest in the subject. 

The week passed by at length, and one morning at 
breakfast Mr. Seaford spoke. 

Mark returned from Philadelphia yesterday, 
Laura, and if one can judge from some expensive 
trinkets he has purchased, you need not complain of 
business interfering with thoughts of his fiancee. 
Your cousin here stated some objections against him 
a week ago, objections which I considered silly even 
then, and, as I now find, rest for foundation on the 
simple fact that Mark and a fellow-passenger — a lady 
— suffered shipwreck together, and were rescued by 
a passing vessel.” 


240 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


‘‘And why was he called Mr. Guerrin, then?” 
asked Alice. 

“That is easily enough accounted for. Vessel, 
captain and crew were all French, and Warren got 
probably Gallicized in much the same way as we 
Anglicize Jacques into James, Roi into King, oi 
Pierre into Peter.” 

“And the conversation I overheard?” 

“Could, as Mr. Warren says, result only from the 
nervous fancies of a sea-voyage engrafted on a 
romantic imagination.” 

Alice flushed to the temples at the covert insult, 
and broke out indignantly, “ Then, uncle, I must say 
that ” 

“Stop, Alice,” cried Mr. Seaford, sternly; “I have 
heard quite enough of what, to say the least 
of it, is but wild conjecture. I have known Mark 
Warren for years, and have ever found him to 
be an honest man and an honorable gentleman. As 
such, Laura, I have accepted him for your hand, and 
as such he comes here this evening to press an early 
date for your marriage;” and so saying, the merchant 
retired with his newspaper to the library. 

W^hen the cousins were in their room, flve minutes 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


241 


later, Laura appeared the firmer of the two. True, 
her face was pale; but her eyes were dry, and John 
Seaford never wore a more determined look than did 
his daughter at the moment. 

‘‘Alice^” said she, ‘^what does all this mean? 
You must tell me now.” 

Alice commenced her story. Not one word was 
lost upon her listener, and at its conclusion she rose, 
exclaiming, “ Alice, I believe before Heaven that 
this woman is Mark Warren’s wife ! And now,, 
nothing — nothing can ever prevail on me to marry- 
him.” 

She uttered the words wildly, but determinedly,, 
and to Alice’s pleading cry, ‘‘But what can we do,, 
Laura?” she said: 

“ What can I do ? Listen ! ” 

She whispered some words into her cousin’s ear.. 

“Oh, Laura!” cried Alice, entreatingly, “yon 
must not think of such a thing ! Have patience yet 
a while, my dear cousin. No ! no ! I cannot — can- 
not listen to you ! ” 

Let us see how the week rolled by with our 
friends, Gerald and Frank. Apart from Barry’s 
desire to be in New York some weeks before the 


242 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Winter session, Boston no longer possessed any in- 
ducements for prolonging his stay. All chance of 
seeing Alice was out of the question, for he felt that 
Mr. Seaford’s interdict extended to the intimate 
friend of Frank Rood. Moreover, Frank’s reserve 
on any topic which might serve to introduce Laura’s 
name had increased, and to such an extent that con- 
versation between the two was often of so artificial 
a nature that both relapsed, by common consent, 
into silence, and took refuge in their meerschaums. 
This state of things was not very pleasant; so one 
Monday evening, in the end of August, Gerald 
announced his departure for next day, and remained 
proof against his friend’s entreaties to the contrary. 
Frank appeared rather abstracted next morning at 
breakfast, and asked by what train the other would 
leave. 

“ Two o’clock,” answered Gerald. 

‘‘I don’t know,” said Rood, after a pause, ‘‘but 
that I may go to New York myself. I want some 
instruments that I cannot get here, and a few days’ 
change may benefit me. Would you mind journey- 
ing by the eleven p. m. express?” asked he. 

“Certainly not, provided you decide on going,” 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


243 


replied Gerald, heartily glad to get his friend away 
from the melancholy surroundings, were it even but 
for a few days. 

“ I can tell you that before noon ; ” and off Mr. 
Rood went once more into a brown study that lasted 
during the rest of breakfast. 

“Well, is it to be or not to be?” asked Gerald, 
when his friend came to dinner. 

“ To be. But I shall be very busy during the day, 
Barry, and I want you to mind office. There are 
several patients of mine whom I must visit before 
leaving, so do not be surprised if you see less of me 
than usual. Have all your luggage ready, and 
expect a hack here at half-past ten. It may be au 
revoir till then.” 

There was something of the old cheery ring in his 
voice that did Gerald’s heart good ; and so he re- 
mained in the office contentedly enough, catching 
but occasional glimpses of his friend during the day. 

Precisely at the hour named. Prank entered. 

“All ready ? Give your trunk to the driver then.’’ 

The key was turned in the door and they drove to 
the depot. 

“All right, Gerald,” said Frank, “we have ten 


244 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


minutes yet. Step into the waiting-room out of the 
crush, while I get the tickets and checks,” and off he 
darted. A few minutes more and our friends were 
in the smoking car, while the engine had ceased 
snorting and puffing, and settled down to its legiti- 
mate task of locomotion. 

“Here, Gerald, have a weed,” said Frank. “Do 
you know,” continued he, after a pause, “ that Alice 
Desmond is on board ? ” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Barry, taking the cigar from 
his lips. 

“Laura, too,” remarked Frank, with exceeding 
nonchalance. 

“ Are you serious ? ” uttered Gerald, in surprise. 

/“Perfectly. The fact may be astounding, but 
nevertheless it is a fact.” 

“And Mr. Seaford?” 

“ Is at present, I dare say, soundly sleeping in his 
bed — dreaming perhaps of his daughter’s marriage.” 

A suspicion, the effect of the tones rather than the 
words of his friend, flashed across the other’s mind. 

“ Frank, you do not mean ” 

“Yes, I do,” interrupted he. “Mr. Seaford was 
aware that I retained the affection of his daughter, 


A TALE TWO LANDS. 


245 


still he rejected me. I was made aware of his rejec- 
tion; still I choose to retain Laura’s love. Bithus 
contra Bacchium!” 

‘‘ But ” 

‘‘ But me no huts, Gerald. We love one another, 
and do not think it judicious to leave a matter, 
wherein our happiness is concerned, in the hands of 
one who will heed no entreaty nor listen to any ar- 
gument. I have tried the latter; with what result 
you already know. Laura and Alice have both en- 
deavored to gain his consent to our union, even 
though it be at some distant day; for success, they 
experienced a stern injunction never again to mention 
aught to him on the subject. With a judge so big- 
oted and petrified, there was no course left me but to 
change the venue. And now, Gerald, that you know 
all, I expect your services at the ceremony, which will 
take place as soon as possible after we reach New 
York,” 

Not well knowing what to say or think, Barry 
followed Frank to the car where the girls were 
seated. Laura, though rather silent and tearful, 
seemed satisfied that Frank’s step was the dernier 
ressort left to them. Alice was more cheerful, and 


246 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


with Frank’s help gradually succeeded in leading the 
conversation to topics which made all feel more at 
ease and momentarily forget the common anxiety. 
Frank had something of importance to say to Laura, 
and presently requested Alice to change seats. Then 
did Gerald learn from her lips what he had but con- 
jectured from his friend’s words — how Frank had 
constantly corresponded with Laura, and sometimes 
contrived to see her; how, at her entreaty, he had 
written to Mr. Seaford a letter, which was returned 
without comment; how he finally asked Laura to fly 
with him, and had gained her consent only when it 
was evident that her father could never be prevailed 
on to sanction their union, and was equally deter- 
mined in upholding Mr. Warren in his suit. 

When Alice concluded her recital, she turned her 
eyes appealingly to her auditor and said: 

‘‘ I hope, Gerald, that you do not blame me for my 
share in the occurrence? I am averse to runaway 
matches, believing as I do that they are generally 
attended by evil consequences; and when Mr. 
Rood first made overtures of the kind to Laura, I 
strenuously opposed his arguments and counseled 
delay. But when I saw that uncle exhibited no 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


247 


symptoms of relenting, that he forbade all mention 
of the matter, that every day diminished the roses on 
my poor cousin’s cheeks — hut above all other consid- 
erations, when I saw Laura urged to marry one whom 
from my heart I believe to be the husband of another 
woman, I thought it unwise to resist any longer. If 
you only knew how sad and melancholy Laura was 
getting to be, I am certain you would believe that I 
acted for the best.” 

Dear little Alice ! she was taking the responsibility 
of others’ acts on herself, and requested forgiveness 
as if she were really culpable ! What did Gerald 
Barry say in reply? A graceful form was by his 
side, a sweet face set in a mass of golden brown ring- 
lets was before him, and a pair of blue eyes looked 
at him with an expression which denoted that his 
good opinion was worth something to her. Reader, 
what would you have said ? 

New York was at length reached, and in two 
hours’ time Frank and Laura were one. As the 
marriage was speedy, the account of it must neces- 
sarily be summary ; besides, there is but little inter- 
est in the details of a wedding which lacked satin, 
lace, veil, wreath and bridal presents. Suffice it to 


248 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


say that, notwithstanding the absence of even those 
aesthetic essentials, Frank and his bride looked pic- 
tures of happiness, and that, when Gerald twitted 
him about his quotations from Pythagoras and the 
old Scandinavian, he looked fondly at his wife, and 
said, “Errare mehercule malo cum Laura, quam cum 
istis vera sentire.” 

What did he say, Gerald ? ” asked Alice, looking 
back from the window at the speaker. 

“ I have told him,” said Frank, that Pythagoras 
and Saemund were a pair of ninnies, and never knew 
the virtues of a pair of blue eyes. You see, Alice, 
that the quarrel belongs to you; so I expect you will 
take up the gauntlet and put this recreant knight to 
shame.” 

‘‘ Had I but the shield of the blue-eyed goddess, I 
would turn him to stone for his slur on our optics. 
As it is ” 

‘‘ Stay, Alice,” interrupted Gerald, ‘‘ I swear it is 
a foul accusation on his part, and meant but to 
divert from his own sinful head the consequences of 
past treason. Mrs. Rood, I engage you as counsel, 
and hope you will come to my rescue.” 

“ I think the plaintiff’s words deserve no credit 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


249 


after his assertion about blue eyes,” exclaimed 
Laura, turning her own liquid orbs on Frank; “at 
the least, they are rebellious and rude.” 

Frank bent down and kissed her fondly. “Re- 
member that you are Rood, also,” gayly remarked he. 

“ Oh ! since I see that my lawyer is not proof 
against bribery, I have only to throw myself on the 
mercy of the court. But remember,” whispered 
Gerald to Alice, “that I shall die the death of a 
martyr, and to the end avow my faith in the divinity 
of blue eyes.” 

“I fear time may make you a heretic,” answered * 
she, looking downwards. 

“ Never ! ” 

What further might have been said, we know not, 
for at that moment the door opened, and John Sea- 
ford stood before them. Pausing a few instants and 
gazing steadily at Frank and Laura, he appeared to 
take in all the circumstances of the case ; but if so, 
not a movement of his limbs, a twitch of the muscles, 
or glitter of his eye, betrayed a shade of emotion. 
Advancing a few paces in the direction of his daugh- 
ter, he coldly asked, “Laura, are you this man’s 
wife?” 


250 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Laura remained mute and motionless on the chair 
to which she had sunk on the appearance of her 
father. 

“Yes, sir, she is,” answered Frank, in a tone as 
cold and collected as his own. 

The merchant paused a moment ; his eyelids 
drooped. Presently his lips became a little more 
compressed, and without another glance at Laura, 
he turned away. 

“Alice, come home.” 

Laura rushed forward, and, with hands clasped 
over her breast, exclaimed in tones that indicated 
the excitement under which she was laboring, 
“ Father, father, forgive me, forgive Frank ! We 
loved — we love one another so much, and you know 
that you would not consent ! It was wrong, I know, 

to run away; but you were so you gave me no 

hope, and I was so miserable ! Do, father ; only say 
that you forgive me ! ” 

“Alice, are you ready?” was the only reply. 

“ Frank ! cousin Alice ! ” hysterically cried Laura, 
falling on her knees, “ will you not beg him to for- 
give me?” 

Frank wound his arm round his young wife’s 


A TALE IN T.WO LANDS. 


251 


waist. Alice burst into tears and endeavored to 
comply with her cousin’s request; but, grasping the 
hand which she had entreatingly laid on his shoulder, 
John Seaford strode towards the door. Words of 
wrath arose to the young husband’s lips as he sup- 
ported his fainting wife. 

“ Mr. Seaford ! ” shouted he. 

“Hold, Frank!” interrupted Gerald; “for Heav- 
en’s sake, keep cool and do not make things worse. 
Stop a moment, I entreat of you, Mr. Seaford, and 
listen to reason. Stay, Alice ” 

The merchant turned round, and said, with a half 
sneer, “ Perhaps, sir, you have imitated your friend’s 
worthy example, and are prepared to lay a husband’s 
claim to my niece! If not, be kind enough to allow 
her to depart, and to spare me your school sophis-* 
try.” A slight, scornful inclination of his head, one 
backward look from Alice, in which grief and bewil- 
derment were plainly depicted, and the door closed. 


252 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


CHAPTER XIV, 

Ho. 55,701. 

Reader, we invite you to take a fancy flight with us. 
True, it is a cold drizzling night, but we will provide 
you with a vehicle admirably contrived for speed, 
safety, and convenience. It can outstrip even the 
winged lightning in its flight; the baby prattler and 
the palsied gran dame may enter it without fear; and 
the veriest Sybarite would not be disturbed by its 
motion. It is ubiquitous, too, and can transport you 
in a moment from the highest peak of the snow- 
capped Andes to the coral beds of the Pacific; and 
again, on light pinions, it will waft you from your 
cosy arm-chair to the burning sands of the Sahara. 
You have no desire for foreign travel, you say. 
Well, we do not intend to take you from the protec- 
tion of the starry flag, and we again assure you our 
traveling-car is agreeable, easy, and expeditious be- 
yond conception. You are willing to try it. Mount 
then, and, presto ! you are no sooner seated in our lo- 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


253 


comotive, marked ‘‘Imagination,” than you find 
yourself in the drawing-room of the Seaford house, 
and can see and hear without being considered pry- 
ing or obtrusive. 

Everything wears a familiar look, for outwardly 
there has been no change since Laura’s departure, yet 
there is something undefinable which chills us as we 
look around — a sense of loneliness, a void some* 
where. The father, who has been gazing fixedly at 
the burning embers, probably realizes this, for his; 
brow contracts as he looks toward the piano, where- 
Alice Desmond is turning over the leaves of a 
, music-book, with a regretful longing for the past. 

“You are fastidious this evening, Alice — can yow 
find nothing to suit your taste?” 

“ Have you no favorite, uncle ? I do not wish to* 
inflict martyrdom on your ears.” 

Mr. Seaford was about to say “ Casta Diva,” but 
this recalled Laura; “II Desiderio” — that was an- 
other of her favorites. Everything spoke of the ab- 
sent one, who must be banished from his thoughts and 
from his heart. Henceforth there would be one 
place vacant; she could not occupy it, nor should 
another. 


254 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


With a cold ring about his voice, as these thoughts 
passed swiftly through his mind, he said: 

“Well, do not mind, child. I see you are not in a 
mood to enjoy music; so you may order up tea, and 
let the evening paper be brought here as soon as it 
comes.” 

Alice left the room, glad to escape from the piano, 
for, whatever key she struck, there were only two 
vibrations — Gerald — Laura — over and over again — 
growing clearer, louder, more distinct each time, as if 
no barrier of distance intervened. 

Left to himself, John Seaford paces the room with 
a restlessness of manner that betokens a mind ill at 
ease, and the disjointed words he lets fall show how 
gloomy are his reflections : 

“Utter ruin impending — enraged by disappoint' 
ment, he may at any time bring matters to a crisis, 
and then ” 

He stops as a servant enters with the evening 
paper. Glancing hurriedly over its contents, his eye 
is arrested by the heading, “ Grand Union Lottery ! 
Capital Prize, |1 00,000 ! ! ” 

“More than sufficient to meet Warren’s claim,” he 
tnutters. “ What shuttle-cocks of fortune we are ! 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


255 


The mere chance of turning up a number might have 
re-established the house, and allowed me to thrust 
Warren from my path, as I sometimes feel tempted 
to thrust him from my sight, daring the scoundrel to 
do his worst. Some fortunate fool will bask in for- 
tune’s smiles to-morrow, and one of those tickets 
Wyland’s wife importuned me to take may possibly 
draw a dollar prize. Let us see;” and with a deri- 
sive look, as if challenging fate to a last trial, he 
opens his pocket-book, and takes some tickets from it. 

‘‘No. 3 , 085 , a blank; 4 , 001 , blank; 20 , 800 — 39,025 
— 42 , 003 — 49,898 — all blanks — not even the possible 
dollar prize. Pshaw ! I believe I have really cher- 
ished the hope of retrieving affairs by this miserable 
expedient. But though I cannot control destiny, I 
shall never become the slave of circums^tance. Will, 
principle, are still left, and these no man shall wrest 
from me.” 

Whilst examining the tickets he had been leaning 
with his back to the piano, and he now started from 
his reclining posture to resume his walk across the 
floor. In doing so, his arm brushed against the 
music-book Alice had left open, causing it to fall to 
the ground. With an impatient “ Pshaw ! ” as he^. 


256 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


felt his nervous system jarred by so trivial a cause, 
the merchant picked up the book, and his face be- 
came sterner in expression as he saw Laura’s name 
on the cover. 

“My last gift to her; she will probably claim it on 
her return from the bridal-trip. Well, she shall have 
all that is hers; but there shall be no record of my 
misplaced affection,” and he turned to the title-page, 
whereon was inscribed : “To Laura, from her father, 
John Seaford.” 

In an instant the page was torn from the book, 
which he was about to close when a folded slip of 
paper caught his eye. “Perhaps another token of 
slighted regard,” he soliloquized, as he took it up. 
“ IsTo— a lottery-ticket. She too had a chance in the 
great venture — as worthless as her matrimonial 
prize.” 

Holding it up to the light, the first two figures ar- 
rested his attention; he remembered they were those 
of the winning number. He snatched up the news- 
paper, and looked again at the ticket. Yes — there it 
was, figure for figure, 55,701, the winner of |100,000. 
The paper fell from his hand, and a dark frown over- 
spread his countenance. W^hat ! was destiny dogging 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


257 


him everywhere ? His tickets should aU prove 
blanks, whilst the soHtary one taken by his undutiful 
daughter would place her in a position to exult in 
her disobedience and ingratitude. He who had lured 
her away, too, and who afterwards insolently con- 
fronted himself, would now assume those airs of 
superiority in which the parvenu delights, and re- 
ceive adulation from those who would pass by the 
bankrupt merchant with a careless nod. The pair 
whom he had cast off might even presume to insult 
him with proffered aid. A fierce light burned in his 
eyes as this flashed through his mind, and it was 
well that neither daughter nor son-in-law then 
crossed his path. 

But his brow cleared as a new idea presented 
itself. Ahce had been lately using the ''book — might 
not the ticket be hers, rather than Laura’s? “Let 
it prove so,” was his rebellious thought, “ and I will 
believe in an over-ruling destiny. The girl, like her 
mother, is gentle and good. A stranger’s blandish- 
ments could never have induced her to leave a 
father’s home.” John Seaford’s heart went out to 
his niece at that moment. He resolved to question 
Alice about the ticket ; and, if she should indeed 


258 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


have drawn the prize, that loan which would have 
been spurned if offered by his daughter or her hus- 
band, would be willingly accepted from his sister^s 
child. Nor did he doubt for a moment its being 
placed at his disposal. He had read Ahce’s char- 
acter from the first, and even Gerald’s confidence in 
her disinterestedness was not greater than John 
Seaford’s. 

Just as he arrived at this conclusion, our heroine 
entered to take her place at the tea-table; for the 
Seafords had tenaciously adhered to English usages 
in their domestic arrangements, and were wont to 
have tea served in the drawing-room. As he sipped 
his coffee, the merchant broached the subject. 

“ I saw a notice of the Grand Union Lottery draw- 
ing in the evening paper. Have you any tickets for 
it, Alice ?” 

“No, Uncle John. I entertain grave doubts as to 
the moral effect of lotteries in general, and if I ever 
exercise the right of woman suffrage, I shall cer- 
tainly vote for their abolition. But, mercy on me ! 
I now remember I am a particeps criminis in the 
object of my strictures, for I have really taken a 
chance — at least half a one.’' 


A TALE IN’ TWO LANDS. 


259 


“ Indeed ! and do you know the number of your 
ticket? The Transcript contains a hst of those 
drawing prizes.” 

“ I cannot say if mine was amongst the units, tens, 
hundreds, or thousands j but it must have turned out 
a blank in punishment for my want of faith, and the 
raid I contemplate making so soon as I possess legal 
rights.” 

“Well, if you cannot abolish the institution by 
process of law, you can at least attack it with a 
weapon which is said to be more potent than the 
sword. But perhaps the wheel of fortune has re- 
volved in your favor, notwithstanding your design 
to arrest its future progress. Where is your 
ticket ?” 

“Echo answers * where?’ uncle; and' I fear it is 
the only answer she wiU give.” 

“ Why, do you not know where you placed it ?” 

“I have not the faintest idea. Mr. Barry and 
myself one day agreed in jest to buy a joint ticket, 
but I thought no more of the matter until he told me 
he had really invested five dollars for our mutual 
interest, handing me at the same time a ticket for 
the Grand Union Lottery. I remember saying to 


260 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


him, ‘I shall apprize you, sir, when I draw the 
grand prize.’ ” 

Here she stopped, for Gerald’s reply recurred to 
her mind : I am content to have this prove a 

blank, Alice, provided you accord me the prize I 
covet in another union.” 

‘‘Well?” queried the merchant, and the simple 
monosyllable indicated a change in his feelings. 

“I do not know what happened it afterwards,” 
continued Alice. ‘' Neither Gerald nor I attached 
any importance to it; and if, as is probable, I laid 
it on the piano, it must have been thrown into the 
waste-pafper basket, or it may be that I dropped it 
somewhere. The finder can propound the riddle, 

‘ What is that which, though written on, is still a 
blank?”’ 

J ohn Seaford leant back in his chair, and a fit of 
abstraction came over him, which continued unbroken 
until Alice approached to say good-night. He re- 
turned her parting salutation kindly, but the rigidity 
of his face did not relax ; and when the door closed, 
leaving him again alone, the pent-up current of feel- 
ing found an outlet in words. 

“I am truly the puppet of Fortune, and the jade 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


261 


tries her worst to torment me. At one time she 
comes with a smile, holding hope before my eyes ; 
then the delusive vision is shut out from view, and I 
am left to the tortures of Tantalus. Yet why should 
I not take the chance presented to me? It was just 
as much my luck to find the ticket as it was to have 
that particular number draw the prize ; but for me it 
would in all probability have escaped notice alto- 
gether, or when found be thrown aside as a worthless 
scrap of paper. Did it belong solely to Alice, 1 
would not hesitate a moment in transferring it to her ; 
but that vain strippling who aided in my daughter’s 
elopement, and bearded me to my face ! hTo! Come 
what will, he shall never rise to fortune through my 
instrumentality. Alice will henceforth take the 
place of a daughter in my household ; she will in- 
herit my worldly possessions ; have I not the right, 
therefore, to use this money for present needs ? It 
is but a loan, and shall be repaid with interest at my 
death.” 

Here he paused. Conscience whispered, ‘^Do as 
you would be done by;” and that high sense of 
honor which he had formerly said placed Mm above 
the necessity of religious restraint, raised a warning 


262 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


voice : ‘‘ The concealment you meditate is unworthy 

of your lineage and your own ideas of moral rectitude. 
Has not philosophy taught you to regard wealth as a 
bauble, a toy of the imagination ? The miser who 
gloats over the possession of hoarded millions is still 
poor the wise man, rich in treasures of knowledge, 
despises the mere dross of earth.” 

‘‘Wealth is a tangible good,” said the merchant 
aloud, “let the philosophers prate as they will. 
Without it, where would be that boasted learning on 
which they base their claims to distinction? Can 
the toiler for daily bread unravel the mysteries of 
ancient lore, or investigate the principles of science ? 
Will he delve in the fields of geology, or follow a 
comet into the regions of space ? Take away wealth, 
and you, take away all that stimulates progress and 
fosters development; you abolish the school, the 
hospital, and those social refinements which make 
the difference between the clown and the courtier, 
the kitchen drudge and the society lady. The cynic 
would make us swallow the school-boy platitude, 
‘ Riches are an incitement to evil ’ ; so is beauty, so 
is knowledge, so is every faculty, if it be not rightly 
directed. Diogenes had few admirers in his own 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


263 


day, and he would find none at all in ours. The wise 
man despises wealth as mere dross, forsooth! Rather 
say every one is despised who has it not.” 

John Seaford was right, according to prevailing 
ideas — those ideas which would limit existence to 
the tenure of mortal life. Miserable philosophy 
this ! Whom can it console ? whom exalt ? Does 
the just man, who suffers persecution even unto 
death, rather than sin against his conscience, accept 
such teachings as a rule of action ? Does the father 
who bears the heat and burden of the day uncom- 
plainingly — the mother who toils lovingly for others’ 
comfort — the good son — the devoted daughter — find 
their principle of action in speculative ideas ? 
Would nothingarian belief nerve this gentle Sister 
of Charity to come upon the battle-field, wh^re death 
in all its ghastly terrors meets her view? Yonder 
mutilated body makes her shrink back — she has but 
lately left her father’s hall, and her blood curdles at 
the sight — but, breathing a prayer for the poor vic- 
tim, she hurries to his gasping comrade, moistens his 
parched lips, removes the corpse that lay with crush- 
ing weight on his mangled limbs, binds up his 
wounds, and, commending him to the care of One 


264 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


wlio watches over all alike, she speeds on her mis- 
sion of love. In a city on the Hudson we see an- 
other devoted one bearing from the devouring flames 
an aged cripple, under whose burden she staggers on 
blindly through the stifling smoke and scorching 
heat. Does she believe wealth to be the chief good ? 
Surely not, for she has devoted her life to the service 
of the poor, remembering that a God has said, 
“ Whatsoever ye do unto the least of these, ye do 
unto Me.” 

It is but a year ago since Fever and Fear stalked 
together through the streets of Memphis. The ter- 
rifled people fled in every direction; even the physi- 
cian sought a place of safety. The hospitals were 
crowded with those stricken by the deadly contagion; 
did they die uncared for, unanointed, unanealed? 
Ho — help was at hand ; it came from a neighboring 
city, where two men, clothed in the white garb of 
the Dominican monks, said, “We are ready.” They 
studied the precepts of that divine Teacher who 
willed to die that man might live; they saw his 
image in every form of affliction ; and when one fell 
at his post of duty, another, and another, and an- 
other took the vacant place, until the ravages of the 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


265 


pestilence were stayed. Were these men nothing- 
arians, think you? They would have shuddered at 
the very thought, and confronted death in its most 
appalling aspect rather than have denied him who 
said, “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain 
mercy ; ” “ Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is 
the kingdom of Heaven.” 

Does not this code satisfy the heart, and appeal in-, 
trumpet tones to our better nature? This is the 
true philosophy, enlightening man as to his duty 
here, and his reward hereafter, consoling him in 
affliction, strengthening him in peril and temptation, 
and cheering the weary spirit with the promise of a 
glorious eternity, where those who have sown good 
seed shall reap an abundant harvest. “ Every one is 
despised who has not wealth.” Ah, John Seaford ! 
with all your cultivated mind and clear understand- 
ing, there are things in Heaven and on earth which 
can never be learned from your philosophy. 

He is again restlessly pacing the room. 

“If Warren insists on assigning over those accept- 
ances, there will inevitably be a crash. The arrant 
knave ! he knows well there is no real danger, that 
it is only a question of timej but his rage at being 


266 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


thwarted will not allow him to listen to any argu- 
ments. Something must be done to satisfy his 
claim this week— 175,000. The prize would cover 
that, and meet the minor calls which now press us, 
by which means we could tide safely over the waters 
in which we shall otherwise be engulfed. The Sea- 
ford house bankrupt ! Warren exulting over the 
-dishonor brought upon my name ! Those who set me 
at defiance looking down from a worldly height on 
the ruin which but for them would have been averted ! 
and all from a scruple of honor that forbids me to 
use the opportunity presented by fortune. The 
chance which placed it in my way was the twin sister 
of that which made it turn up a prize — shall I not 
embrace it ? ” 

In spite of all the sophistry suggested by inclina- 
tion and necessity, the merchant could not make up 
his mind to say yes. However he tried to look at it, 
his sense of justice told him the question, plainly 
stated, was this, ‘‘Shall I appropriate the property 
of another?” No, John Seaford would not entertain 
the question in this form ; honor would have been 
shocked at a direct charge of embezzlement ; but will 
it make him boldly confront poverty rather than 


267 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


commit a wrong ? We must leave the morrow to de- 
cide, for the merchant says not another word^ but re- 
tires to the library, where the midnight hour still 
found him making calculations. 


268 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


CHAPTER Xy. 

WHAT THE MORROW BROUGHT FORTH. 

‘‘Did you dream of the whereabouts of your ticket 
last night, Alice?” said John Seaford, as he discussed 
the morning meal. 

“Xo delusive fancy came to trouble my repose, 
Uncle John ; and we have both reason to rejoice that 
slumber, like the missing chattel, left no record on 
the tablet of memory.” 

“ What cause for mutual jubilation do you find in 
this ? ” The merchant looked full at his niece as he 
put the question ; her remark startled him. Thus 
does “ conscience make cowards of us all.” 

“ Because a suggestion from Morpheus might have 
induced me to enact the role of a celebrated miller, 
and with the same results. Then, carpets being 
raised, furniture in disorder, and I singing in sad 
tones — 

* Shall I never more behold thee, 

Never see thy winning face again — ’ 


A TALE IN’ TWO LANDS. 


269 


there enters on the scene a distinguished gentleman 
who shall be nameless; with a reproachful look at the 
disappointed mourner, that says more plainly than 
words, ‘Look on the ruin you have wrought,’ he 
l^talks gloomily to the library. Picture this tableau, 
and then say if two individuals should not be thank- 
ful for having escaped the snares of Somnus and his 
son.” 

“Possibly, as you have put the case. But there 
would be more than one disappointed figure stalking 
to the library at sight of the woful picture you have 
portrayed. Mr. Warren will dine here to-day.” 

“ And he might have seen ‘ the ruin of the house 
of York,’ had I dreamt of prize tickets,” exclaimed 
Alice quite unconscious of the significa;ice of her 
words. “ But, uncle, I am the disappointed party 
now for 1 hoped you would be my preux chevalier 
this evening.” 

“For a concert or lecture? I confess I am in no 
mood to enjoy one or the other.” 

“And it is neither one nor the other. Uncle John.” 

“ What then ? You surely do not mean a ball or a 
dramatic performance ? ” 


270 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


“Certainly not. It is something more in conso- 
nance with my present feelings.” 

“ I never invested largely in imagination, and the 
stock on hand is now entirely exhausted.” 

“Then I must make no further calls on it, but^ 
come to the point at once. Uncle John, I had hoped 
you would accompany me to the mission.” 

“Where?” 

“To the mission at the Cathedral. I would so 
much like to hear Father Joseph preach, and his ser- 
mons are reserved for the evening discourses. Of 
course I cannot go alone.” 

John Seaford reflected a moment. He saw that 
Alice had set her heart on this, and might it not be 
as well to gratify her ? She was more dependent on 
him since Laura’s departure, and he knew she did not 
encourage the indiscriminate attention of would-be 
admirers. Besides, it would serve as a diversion from 
thought after the interview he had appointed with 
Warren. He welcomed the idea, for a weight of 
anxiety and doubt pressed heavily upon him, though 
to an ordinary observer he was impassive and imper- 
turbable as ever. 

“Well,” he rejoined, “we may possibly arrange 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


271 


this to your satisfaction. Our guest’s presence need 
not interfere, for my business with him can be trans- 
acted immediately after dinner ; and if he seems in- 
clined to linger you may invite his attendance also. 
I dare say he will readily consent to be preux 
chevalier.” 

“An arrangement not quite to my taste,” thought 
Alice after her uncle had left the room; “but perhaps 
it is all for the best. Father Joseph may plant a 
grain of mustard-seed in Mr. Mark Warren’s soul 
that will eventually fructify. In any case I rejoice 
that Uncle John has consented to attend the mission. 
I entertain strong hopes that his cultivated under- 
standing and candid mind will find food for refiection 
in the service and the sermon. A nature like his, if 
anchored on the rock of belief, would assuredly 
become the type of Christian perfection.” 

We hope that Alice will see her wish realized. It 
is certainly from the brightest intellects and the most 
exalted minds the Catholic Church has drawn her 
converts; as Dean Swift expressed it, “The Pope 
sends Protestants his garbage, and takes their flow- 
ers.” Is not this a sufiScient answer to the petty 
scribes who would have their credulous readers be- 


272 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


lieve that Catholicity is opposed to enlightenment? 
'^We saved the holy relics and our library” is the 
oft-repeated remark in the annals of the Middle Ages, 
when narrating how their convent had been despoiled 
and themselves forced to flee by the barbarous hordes 
who then desolated Europe, and would have made it 
in very truth a region of darkness had not the lamp 
of knowledge been kept burning within the walls of 
the monastery. “We saved only our rehcs and our 
books/’ writes the medieval recluse in illuminated 
characters, which are the wonder of the present day; 
these treasures he would have died to preserve from 
the ruthless barbarian — the gold and silver might go 
to the spoiler. Happily the record survives to the 
confusion of those who would defame the “lazy, ig- 
norant monks of the middle ages.” 

Dinner hour arrived, and with it the expected 
guest beaming with good nature and fair-spoken as 
usual. If condemned to wear the willow, he cer- 
tainly did it with a good ]grace, and seemed not the 
less kindly disposed towards his entertainers because 
the worm i’ the bud had come forth to banquet on 
his rounded cheek. 

The conversation was discursive, Mr. Warren 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


273 


showing himself acquainted with general statements 
regarding general facts, and cleverly concealing his 
want of profundity by suavity of manner and non- 
committing aphorisms. 

When the dessert came on, Alice thought it time 
to bring her cherished project on the tapis. She 
wished to know if it were to he or not to he.” 

“Try these figs, Mr. Warren,” she said, as a 
preliminary. 

“Sweets from the sweet. Miss Alice, are sweet 
indeed,” was his polite acceptance of the proffered 
courtesy. 

“ Twenty years hence you will probably say, ‘ a fig 
for such things,’ ” put in the host. 

“ Not if it implies depreciation, or my taste must 
alter exceedingly.” 

“Does your taste never change, Mr. Warren?” 
queried our heroine. “ I warn you, I have a motive 
for putting the question.” 

“Sometimes, Miss Alice, for sufficient reasons. 
And now may I inquire as to the motive ? ” 

“ Certainly. Uncle does not quite share your hor- 
ror of ‘indulgences,’ for he indulged me with the 


274 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


hope of being my escort this evening to the Cathe- 
dral, where a mission is now going on.” 

“ And,” added the host, as the young lady came to 
a pause, ‘‘I think Alice meditates entrapping you 
into attendance likewise ; but it was to be dependent 
on the readiness with which we shall transact our 
after-dinner business.” 

Oh ! I hope you will not allow that to interfere,” 
said the guest, with considerable animation. 

‘‘Miss Alice, you have entirely converted me to 
the doctrine of indulgences, and if you will gra- 
ciously accord me one in this case, I shall be only 
too happy to receive further enlightenment in your 
company this evening.” 

The permission was granted with general satisfac- 
tion. Our heroine’s cause of gratification has al- 
ready been mentioned. To the merchant it was a 
respite which he wished could be prolonged, for time 
would bring security. 

Mr. Mark W arren’s feelings were of a mixed 
nature. A brief note from John Seaford had ac- 
quainted him with Laura’s flight, and he received the 
tidings with a tempest of rage that would have elec- 
trified those who knew him only as he seemed out- 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


275 


wardly. But no one was permitted to witness the 
exhibition of his disappointed wrath, and he came 
forth from his chamber with an unruffled brow, and 
a manner so calm that an ordinary individual would 
doubt if a single angry feeling ever found a place in 
the breast of so worthy a gentleman. For some 
time he was undecided as to his course of action. 
Revenge he was determined on in some shape, but 
the means he should employ required consideration.. 
His first thought was to crush the Seaford house, by 
insisting on an immediate settlement of accounts, but;, 
the merchant’s resentment against his daughter and’ 
her husband suggested the idea of gratifying his 
malice more effectually. Would not the man he 
held in his power be as ready to favor his suit with 
the niece as he had been to recommend him to the 
daughter? and here there was an almost undoubted 
certainty of success. Laura Seaford inherited much 
of her father’s spirit — it might have caused him 
trouble afterwards; but Alice Desmond would be 
easily managed — she was entirely dependent, and not 
at all so high-strung as her proud cousin, who might 
yet be made to feel the consequences of the step she 
had taken in jilting him for a penniless dentist. 


276 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


Well, she would have every facility for enjoying 
love in a cottage. If Seaford’s niece should only 
have sense enough to accept his offer, then he would 
undertake to do some wire-pulling which would leave 
the Roods without one solitary acre of John 
Seaford’s property. And matters looked as favor- 
able as could be desired. The father was as much 
enraged as himself at having been outwitted and set 
at defiance, and he was not one to turn from hatred 
to love. Besides, there was the pressure that would 
be brought to bear ; it was only necessary to turn 
the screw. Surely the old man would not object to 
go as far now as he had done before, and the niece 
dared not refuse compliance. But it was better to 
go cautiously to work ; a little time must be allowed 
to elapse, then the subject could be broached to 
Seaford. In the meantime he would have opportu- 
nities for making himself agreeable to the girl ; he 
rather liked her style of beauty, too — not at all so 
striking as Laura’s, but her temper was far better, 
though she entertained some notions which it would 
be well to eradicate hereafter. The matter could 
now be set in train. It was a perfectly safe game, 
and a tolerably nice stake. Let him only win the 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


1:77 


point, and tlie profits would be made to come out all 
rip^ht. 

Mr. Warren made some miscalculations, as the 
event proved ; for instance, be did not take Gerald 
Barry into account when speculating on the possibil- 
ity of Alice accepting the offer of his hand. This 
omission was not due to forgetfulness, but to want of 
information regarding the facts of the case. Neither 
our heroine nor her cousin, as may be supposed, 
thought of taking him into confidence, and John 
Seaford knew nothing of Alice’s penchant for the 
companion of her childhood. 

Having thus mapped out future proceedings, Mr. 
Warren went quietly to work. He had some discus- 
sions with the merchant regarding the financial com- 
plication, and he showed his consciousness of be- 
ing master of the situation, though generously for- 
bearing to press his claim ; “ but circumstances might 
arise which would bring matters to an I'ssue.” In 
these interviews he learned what he desired to know, 
namely, John Seaford’s determination never to see 
Laura or her husband again, and his resolve that 
Alice should henceforth fill his daughter’s place. 
** Ca ira,” thought the plotter, and the words recalled 


278 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


a foreign land and a foreign face. ‘‘ Pshaw ! why 
should this trouble me now ? The shackle is broken ; 
I am free before the law ; and need not worry myself 
over that piece of folly. Happily, we are living in an 
age when scruples of this kind may be disregarded. 
Besides, no one knows anything about the matter, and 
no one shall know.” Strange that Mr. Warren, who. 
attacked supposed errors with such indignation, could 
forget there is One who heard his vow to cherish and 
protect a simple maiden who plighted her faith to 
him in the Church of Sainte Therese. She knows it, 
too, and is at this moment pressing to her lips the 
ring he placed on her finger when he promised to be 
true until death did them part. 

Mr. Seaford and his guest discoursed on business 
topics until coifee was served. Mr. Warren was in a 
particularly happy mood, disposed to take an opti- 
mist view of everything. “There is no cause for 
serious apprehension, my dear sir. The money-mar- 
ket is undoubtedly stagnant at present, but there will 
be a revival very soon, and trade will be all the 
brisker for the temporary depression.” 

“ I can let the ticket question lie over,” thought 
the merchant, and, after sipping a cup of coffee, he 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


279 


declared himself ready to accompany Alice. Mr. 
Warren was not only ready, he was most happy — 
‘‘ esteemed it quite a privilege to escort Miss Alice.” 
So ten minutes more saw our heroine and the two 
gentlemen in the carriage, en route for the mission. 


280 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


CHAPTER XVL 

FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS. 

The church was crowded when our party arrived, 
although the services had not begun. As it was im- 
possible for all three to get seats in the same pew, 
the merchant took a place on the right of the middle 
aisle, while Mr. Mark Warren led Alice nearer to the 
pulpit. 

“We can see and hear better from this point,” he 
wliispered. “ Perhaps your missionary will convert 
me.” 

Alice inclined her head. She hoped Mr. Warren 
might hear something that would be to his advan- 
tage, but she said nothing. 

There is a glimmer of tapers, and a procession of 
surpliced youths files out of the vestry. The priest 
takes his place in front of the altar, and the solemn 
strains of the Benediction hymn ascend with incense 
to heaven : 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


281 


**Genitori Genitoque 
Laus et jubilatio, 

Salus, honor, virtus quoque 
Sit et benedictio, 

Procedenti ab utroque 
Compar sit laudatio.” 

John Seaford scarcely breathed as the words fell 
on his ear. Here was no cold devotion, no form 
without life, but the most sublime act of adoration 
from the creature to the Omnipotent ; a profession 
of faith, too, in language terse yet comprehensive. 
He had before understood the might and majesty of 
the Catholic Church ; he now felt something of the su- 
pernatural influences she exercises over the heart, and 
in the solemn silence he mentally ejaculated, “This 
indeed is the house of prayer.” 

The tabernacle is closed, and the officiating priest 
retires, whilst a flgure clothed in the long dark robe 
of a Passionist Father advances in front of the altar, 
where he remains prostrate in prayer for a few mo- 
ments. Then, ascending the pulpit, he prepares to 
speak in the name of him whose death on the cross 
is commemorated by that sign of devotion with which 
he commences. A look of eager attention in the di- 
rection of the missionary seems to indicate that 


282 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


Father Joseph is a favorite with the congregation. 
Such indeed was the case ; and in the tall, slender 
figure, fair complexion, and finely cut features one of 
the auditors recognized a former class-mate. Yes, in 
spite of the change wrought by years of study and 
self-denial, John Seaford felt certain the Passionist 
Father had once been his fellow-student at Cam- 
bridge, where his talents won golden opinions from 
the professors, whilst his courage, generosity, and 
vim caused him to be voted “a real good fellow” 
by juniors and sophs. 

He can pass a joke as well as any O’Donaghue,” 
said a gentleman of that name who claimed M’Al- 
lister as a particular chum ; ‘‘and why shouldn’t he, 
when he has good Irish blood in his veins ; ’tis only 
a pity he wasn’t born a real Irishman.” 

M’Allister laughed when this expression of condo- 
lence reached his ears, and said he knew now why 
phrenologists assigned him a large bump of combat- 
iveness and nomadic proclivities. In spite of the 
preponderance of the former trait, and his superi- 
ority in intellect, he had been obliged to succumb to 
the overwhelming weight of testimony brought for- 
ward on one occasion by Mr. O’Donaghue, in favor 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


283 


of a divinely instituted churcli, and the consequent 
impossibility of its teaching erroneous doctrine. 
This led to further inquiry in after years ; and now, 
in the calm, earnest missionary, John Seaford finds 
himself face to face with the bright, impulsive 
school-mate, whose remarkable abilities and acute 
perception would, according to the predictions of 
the college faculty, open to him a glorious career in 
the future. Had the predictions been fulfilled ? Let 
that wise philosopher answer, who has said, ‘‘ On the 
stage of life he is the most successful player who has 
best performed his allotted part ; whether he wears 

the silken robes of state, or dons a russet garb, enters 

// 

not into the account.” 

That he had well performed his part hitherto — 
that he would strive to play it worthily until the last 
act was over — ^none could doubt who looked at the 
spiritualized face of the missionary, and heard his 
voice raised in counsel and encouragement to those 
who would walk in the light of truth, in solemn de- 
nunciation of hidden vice and public wrong-doing. 
The stillness of a hushed multitude pervaded the 
church, and Mr. Mark Warren’s attention, like that 
of every member of the congregation, was riveted on 


284 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


the speaker as he came to the last point of his 
discourse : 

“ And now I shall advert briefly to what must be 
called the plague-spot of our modern society. Its 
influence is spreading far and wide, and its pestilen- 
tial breath has already blighted thousands of lives in 
this fair land. Happily, my friends, I can say to the 
greater number of those whom I now address, re- 
joice that the Catholic Church has set up a barrier 
which keeps this great evil from your midst ; and 
you. Catholic maidens, reflect seriously before you 
embark your fate with those who would wreck your 
happiness on the treacherous shoals of Divorce. 
Think of the ruined homes, the misery brought on 
fathers, mothers, and children, by that judicial tri- 
bunal which has undertaken to sever a tie which 
God said should not be broken. ‘ And he who put- 
teth away his lawful wife and taketh another, 
commits adultery.’ 

“Because of this divorce court, the unprincipled 
husband, who tires of duty, will desert her whom he 
has promised to cherish ; because of this same court, 
the frivolous woman dares to break the nuptial bond, 
sure of being sheltered from scorn by such a mask 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


285 


for iniquity ; because of this court, children are de- 
prived of parents’ care, their young minds perverted 
by teaching which seeks to gloss over wrong-doing 
by justifying the means that licensed it. The conta- 
gion spreads, and all society feels the taint. Who 
that glances at the pictures of every-day life, which I 
shall set before you, will venture to say the Catholic 
Church should give the sanction of her authority to 
the divorce laws ? ” 

Alice glanced at Mr. Warren. He was listening. 

“Here is a happy fireside. One parent holds a 
little prattler on his knee, the other fondles a curly- 
headed darling. ‘ Our boy will grow up to be our 
pride and our stay in the future,’ says the fond 
mother. rough blast shall ever visit this cheek, 

while heaven leaves me health and strength,’ is the 
father’s thought. 

“A few months later, and the parents are again sit- 
ting by each other, but the voices of both are at a 
pitch that suits not the accents of endearment. 

^ It is not. ^ The words are rung in dif- 
ferent changes, rising gradually in tone, each louder, 
shriller than the former, until argument has become 
recrimination. They separate for the night, and one 


286 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


mutters, ‘incompatibility of temper.’ A newspaper 
is at hand, and an advertisement reads, ‘ Divorces in 
any State obtained without publicity; passports 
provided.’ Next morning there is gloomy silence 
at the once cheerful board, and at dinner one place 
is vacant. In after years we read of a divorced man 
married to another ; a divorced woman, living, no 
one knows where, no one cares to inquire how. The 
mother’s darling, uncontrolled by the sweet and salu- 
tary influences of home, has grown up a reckless 
youth, fearing not God, honoring not the authors of 
his being — dare they reproach him for this? — set- 
ting at deflance those laws which he denounces for 
having deprived him of his birth-right privileges, 
and made him an outcast on the world’s highway . 
And the father’s idol, she whom he would shelter 
from every nipping blast? The worms have ere 
this feasted on her soft cheek, yet she was glad when 
they told her she would soon be laid in her earthen 
bed. An icy hand fell heavily on her heart as day 
after day her father’s love grew cold, and she saw 
a stranger put in the place of that mother who had 
nightly folded her hands in prayer; that mother she 
was told was now a homeless wanderer, she must not 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


287 


think of her more. She is no longer her father’s idol, 
but her child, and her brother’s waywardness is made 
a reproach. What wonder if light words of love 
find easy belief? Can the father, who marred the 
tenor of her life to gratify an angry feeling, claim 
her confidence or exact duty? There is a hasty 
marriage, unsanctified by religious rites, ‘ binding so 
long as it is pleasant, and easily shaken off when it 
galls,’ soliloquized the one on whose faith she staked 
her future happiness. 

“‘Divorces easily obtained.’ It caught his eye as.^ 
he was idly sauntering along ; the thought was sug^- 
gested, it recurred again. That night his cruel in- 
difference makes her weep. Pish ! women’s nerves ; 
it was becoming absolutely unbearable. Divorces, 
easily obtained ! Yes, there was the remedy. They 
were evidently unsuited to each other, and would be 
better apart. 

“Oh! the fearful cry of that anguished heart 
which arose to heaven against the unrighteous law 
that set itself up in opposition to the Divine precept, 
‘Whoso God has joined let no man put asunder.’ 
Would the lawyer have pocketed his fee with such a 
chuckle had he heard that stricken one’s denuncia- 


288 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


tion of the evil he was spreading broadcast through 
the land ? Would the sumptuous repast it procured 
for him have been so thoroughly enjoyed, had he 
seen her afterwards, on her poor pallet, with hollow 
cheek, and sunken eye, and that look of woe which 
tells the tale of a broken heart without one word 
being spoken ? But her grief finds a last utterance : 
‘How long, O Lord, how long wilt Thou suffer 
this iniquity to go unrequited ? ’ How many victims 
must still suffer, how many hearts be crushed, how 
many lives wrecked by those who, with unholy love 
of greed, proclaim, ‘Divorces without publicity?’ 
Yes, she is laid at rest. I^o father, mother, or 
brother pressed her dying lips ; and her husband ? 
he was putting the marriage ring on the finger of 
another ere the heart of the deserted one had ceased 
to beat. 

“There is another picture whose figures are like the 
last. Father, mother, and children are there; and, 
as before, angry words make the brow grow dark and 
the heart swell with anger. But they are within the 
true fold, and there is a common bond of faith be- 
tween the parents. They seek the tribunal of pen- 
ance; they lay bare their consciences before the 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


289 


accusing eye of heaven ; they see their mutual error, 
and repentance follows. That night witnesses a 
reconciliation, and serenity is restored to heart and 
nome. They have learned a lesson of mutual for- 
bearance, and they know the laws of God will not be 
set aside. Temptation cannot assail them, for they 
meet it with a ‘ non possumus.’ And their children 
dwell with them ; they are guarded by love, they are 
trained in the path of duty ; and the parents whO' 
watched over their tender youth become in time the^ 
objects of alfectionate solicitude. Heavenly peace, 
abides under their roof ; and when the Supreme- 
Judge summons them to appear before His‘ tribunal, 
they hear those words, ‘Well done, ye good and 
faithful servants.’ 

“ Which court, O my friends, has benefited society- 
— that in which ‘Divorces without publicity’ are 
granted, or that which summons the Christian to 
look into his soul, and purify it from every taint of 
corruption that might remove it from Him who 
sanctified marriage by his presence ? Think you the 
bride or bridegroom of Cana would have dared to ask 
the Divine Guest for a divorce without publicity ? ” 

A few words of exhortation brought the evening’s 


290 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


service to a close, and the congregation began to 
disperse. 

Miss Desmond and her escort found the carriage 
waiting, but the merchant had not yet come up. 

Uncle must have remained in church until the 
crowd passed out,” said Alice ; ‘‘ he will be here in a 
moment.” 

“ And I rejoice in having even a moment’s tete-a- 
tete,” returned Mr. Warren. “Would you not pre- 
fer to enter the carriage ? ” 

An exclamation uttered in French arrested the 
young lady’s reply. 

Turning towards her escort, she saw him con- 
fronted by one whose appearance, gestures, and 
speech, immediately recalled the French girl she had 
seen on board the Vulture, and who, as our readers 
have probably divined, was the Julie to whose rescue 
Gerald Barry had come so opportunely. Her history 
since then can be told in a few words. The day 
after our hero left the city, kind Mrs. O’Leary suc- 
ceeded in procuring her employment in 'New York, 
and some time after she got a more desirable situa- 
tion in Boston. Hence her appearance at the mission 
this evening, and her accidental meeting with War- 


A TALE JN TWO LANDS. 


291 


ren. Though obliged to acknowledge his treachery- 
in deserting her, she had never abandoned the hope 
of one day meeting the recreant, and bringing him 
back to a sense of duty ; she, consequently, felt no 
surprise when she found herself face to face with 
Henri Guerenne, whom she regarded as her husband. 
Poor Julie ! though you have learned to speak our 
language passably well, and acquired some knowl- 
edge of our institutions, you know not yet how easy 
it is to shake off that bond you believe to be indis- 
soluble. People have spoken to you of divorces, but 
in your simple ^N'orman faith you did not conceive 
the possibility of being divorced without publicity. 
Yes, that separation himself had planned gave the 
designer cause sufficient to claim by law the annul- 
ling of his marriage with the too confiding French 
girl ; and when Julie, in glad tones, exclaimed : 

“ At last I have found you, Henri, my Henri ! ” 
her whilom husband rudely thrust her from him, 
saying : 

‘‘Away, girl! I have nothing to do with you.” 

“1^'othing!” cried poor Julie, looking dazed for 
a moment ; then, with recovered energy, she added. 


292 


THE JOINT VENTUKE. 


How dare you say so, perfidious man ! You are 
my husband.” 

Alice moved towards the carriage, but J ulie stop- 
ped her. 

‘‘Stay, mademoiselle; I want you to hear. lam 
indeed his wife. Merci ! now I see your face, I have 
met you before. Hid you not see him and me on 
the y ulture ? Is he not my husband ? ” 

To our heroine’s great relief Mr. Seaford came up 
as Julie put the last question, and he took in the 
situation at a glance. 

“ Come, child,” he said, drawing his niece’s arm 
within his ; “Mr. Warren has a stronger claim on his 
attention, and I shall expect an explanation of his 
former statement regarding this girl.” 

The gentleman referred to knew his prospective 
game was lost ; he might as well show his hand 
now ; so, assuming a tone of bravado, he asked, “ On 
what ground do you require an explanation, sir?” 

“ On the ground that you dared to ask my daugh^ 
ter’s hand,” replied the merchant, with suppressed 
anger. 

“Your argument has no weight according to your 
own words, Mr. Seaford. You admitted a case might 


A TALE m TWO LAN^DS. 


293 


arise wliicli would justify divorce — that case was 
mine, and I was free from the galling bond when I 
solicited the honor of becoming your son-in-law. 
Having thus satisfied your claim, I hope mine will be 
as promptly liquidated. You will hear from me to- 
morrow.” 

“When you please,” said John Seaford ; and with- 
out vouchsafing his creditor a good-night, he hurried 
Alice to the carriage, banged to the door, and gave 
the order, “Home.” 

An hour later saw the merchant walking up and 
down his library, with agitated step and lowering 
brow. 

“ The scoundrel ! ” he muttered, “ to deceive me 
first, and then try to ensnare me into an approval of 
his villainy in order to justify his conduct. His 
claim must be met to-morrow — well, it shall be.” 

The last words were uttered with the gloomy des- 
neration of a gambler who stakes all on a final throw. 
The stakes in this case were expediency versus moral 
principle^ and expediency won. John Seaford would 
have met death unflinchingly, but he could not face 
the frown of poverty. Would those whose rights 
he was thus infringing on have been equally weak in 


294 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


such circumstances ? Assuredly not ; for neither 
Gerald nor Alice would have said, as did John 
Seaford, “The knowledge rests with myself.” 

The merchant had only taken his seat in the count- 
ing-house next morning, when Mr. Mark Warren was 
ushered in. His confident manner was met with a 
look of cold contempt which took him completely 
aback. 

“ I have reason to believe your firm cannot with- 
stand the financial shock it is about to encounter, 
and therefore I have come to notify you of my im 
tention to transfer the acceptances I hold on your 
house.” 

“I have reason to believe you are altogether in 
error on this point,” was the reply. “ The house has 
nothing to fear ; and your notes will be paid as soon 
as presented, whether by yourself or another.” 

“Am I to understand you are quite prepared to 
meet all claims?” said Warren, with an air of incre- 
dulity. 

“I have told you so. You see your apprehensions 
as to our stability are without foundation ; and I beg 
to inform you that all further business relations be- 
tween us are at an end.” 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


295 


“I can’t see into it,” snarled the discomfited gen- 
tleman, as he walked out of the office. ‘‘It isn’t a 
dodge ; he looked too much in earnest ; besides, that 
kind of ruse would not be like Seaford. Confound 
him and that Frenchwoman, too! Well, she’s 
shaken off anyhow, and I’ll test this bragging of 
Seaford’s very soon. How I wish I could crush 
him ! ” and a diabolical look passed over his face 
as he ground his heel into the dust. 

The malevolent wish was not gratified. Notes for 

heavy amounts came pouring in on the Seaford firm, 

but one after another was paid off as soon as pre- 

/ 

sented. 

“Where can the money have come from?” 
thought the baffled plotter. The question was asked 
in vain for some time ; but Mr. WaiTen possessed 
remarkable sagacity in ferreting out secrets ; and al- 
though the merchant’s name, at his own desire, had 
been withheld in the public announcement of prize 
drawers, nevertheless his quondam friend discovered 
that John Seaford had won $100,000 in the Grand 
Union Lottery. Here, however, his information 
ended — the great secret, the ownership of the ticket, 
was locked up in the merchant’s breast. It shall be 


296 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


revealed when John Seaford and Mark Warren ap- 
pear before that tribunal where justice never yields 
to expediency. Well for either if he can say on that 
last day of reckoning, I repented ; I made atone- 
ment.’’ 




k • 



CATHEDm OF ST. FETffi AND ST. PAUL, PHIL.U)EIJ>HIi, 


A TALE TWO LANDS. 


297 


CHAPTER XVII. 

DOCTOR BARRY PUZZLES OVER A DIAGNOSIS. 

If the reader chanced to be strolling along one of 
the streets in Philadelphia, about three years after the 
events related in the last chapter, and, having noth- 
ing more interesting wherewith to employ his time, 
had spent it in scanning the blazonry over the stores, 
doors, and windows, he might possibly have seen the 
•sign, Gerald Barry, M. D., Physician and Surgeon.” 

^ Had his curiosity or ailment (if the latter, he would 
be more welcome) prompted him to enter the house 
garnished by the above sign, and to open the door on 
the right, he would have found himself in a small 
office furnished with a number of medical volumes, 
an ink-stained table, an easy chair, a map of the 
United States, a diploma from the College of Physi- 
cians and Surgeons, and a few busts of ancient 
medical sages artistically placed on a shelf over the 
door. Ere he finished the survey. Doctor Gerald 


298 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Barry would emerge from an inner room — his bed- 
room — and, briskly brushing past, with a Pray, be 
seated, sir,” would write furiously for about five min- 
utes, and then, summoning his young negro. Mercury, 
would say in a dignified tone, ‘‘Sam, take these prescrip- 
tions to Mr. Conroy, the druggist, and tell him I want 
them made up immediately, as I am called away on 
a visit. Immediately ! do you hear ? It is a matter of 
life and death.” Sam, with an “All right, sir,” 
would bound to the door, slam it violently, and — 
relight the butts of his cigars with the prescriptions ! 
The doctor would advance to you, dear reader, and 
say, “ Excuse me for detaining you, but as I have just 
been called to attend a compound fracture case, I 
was obliged to write prescriptions for several of my 
old patients who will call in my absence. Xot at 

all, not at all, my dear sir ! I have still fifteen 

« 

minutes at my disposal, and will be very happy to 
place them at your service; what can I do for you?” 
If you stated your grievance, he would prescribe, 
pocket his fee with seeming unconcern, and request 
you to call on him again at the end of three days. If 
you declined his hurried services that day, and pre- 
ferred to call when business was not so pressing, he 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


299 


would name Ins office hours, blandly bow you out, 
and on your departure would smile grimly at his 
ill-luck. 

Fortune had not favored Gerald much during his 
three months’ residence in Philadelphia ; in all that 
period, his patients scarcely exceeded one a month. 
Every night for two or three weeks he had roused 
the neighborhood from midnight slumber by rap- 
pings long and loud at his own door, and by carrying 
on imaginary conversations about imaginary calls 
with an imaginary Doctor Barry at the open door. 
Every day for the same length of time did he issue 
hastily from his sanctum at three o’clock, get into his 
carriage, and yelling some directions to Sam about 
those powders for Mr. Such-a-one, and those mix- 
tures for Such-another, would drive down the street 
as fast as his steed and the fear of the police allowed 
him. 

All to no purpose ! He lost flesh considerably by 
his nocturnal tactics, and gained not a single patient 
by his equestrian performances. He accordingly 
changed the modus operand! ; necessity made him 
sell his horse, and he prevailed upon Sam to rap 
lustily at his door one night each week» Hot all the 


300 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


butt-ends of cigars in the whole creation could make 
Sam lose his sleep for two nights in succession. 
Every succeeding day Gerald was growing more and 
more disgusted with his medical prospects in Phila- 
delphia, and often pondered on the advisability of 
removing his household goods to an unhealthier dis- 
trict. Whilst canvassing this important question one 
day, and ruminating over a cigar in the inner room, 
the office door opened and some one entered. 

“ The third fellow that has mistaken the door to- 
day,” muttered Gerald. “One wanted the lawyer, 
the other the music-teacher ; I suppose it is the pho- 
tographer that is wanted this time. Let us see. 
When I pay my rent, Sam’s wages, and my board- 
bill, how much shall I have left out of a hundred 
dollars? 'Not sufficient to be overwhelmed with the 
balance, I am certain ! Twenty-five and twelve 
make thirty-seven, and six make ” 

A cough attracted his attention. 

“That sounds professional. I’ll see what luck 
there is in odd numbers ; ” and, so thinking, he 
picked up a sheet of paper, entered the office, and 
went through the usual routine of writing prescrip- 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


301 


tions, ringing for JSam and dispatching him to the 
druggist’s. 

‘‘Now, sir,” said he, advancing to the patient, 
“what can I do for you? What ! Mr. Seaford ! ” 

“ The same, sir,” replied the gentleman. “ It has 
been some time since we last saw each other,” con- 
tinued the merchant, as he seated himself in the 
chair which Gerald drew forward. 

“ Three years,” replied Barry, mechanically. 

“ Three years ; yes. A long time, not perhaps to^ 
one like you, in the hey-day of youth, but long to an^ 
old man like me. So long,” glancing at Gerald,, 
“ that many prior events had almost faded from my 
recollection till your sign attracted my notice as T 
was passing by this evening. Curiosity prompted 
me to see if you were the same person I had for-- 
merly known. I find that you have followed out 
your plan of a medical profession. Have you been 
long in this city?” 

“About three months, sir.” 

“How do you like Philadelphia?” 

“ I like it — tolerably,” answered Gerald, with some 
hesitation. 

“Got a large practice?” interrogated the other. 


302 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Hardly enougli to keep the wolf from the door,” 
said Gerald, gloomily enough. 

How is that ? From what you said to your ser- 
vant, I should judge you to be in no want of 
patients.” 

“ A mere ruse, sir ; a sort of professional Trojan 
horse, wherewith to establish a reputation, and obtain 
a practice.” 

Mr. Seaford smiled grimly. ‘‘Stratagem appears 
to pervade very strongly all branches of medicine, 
and to form a necessary qualification in those who 
embrace it.” 

Gerald winced at the remark, knowing well the 
covert allusion in his words. 

“You are scarcely just in your denunciation, Mr. 
Seaford,” he replied. “The artifice which I have had 
the candor to acknowledge is innocent enough in 
itself, and cannot pretend to compete with the shams 
made use of by individuals in any other line of 
business.” 

“ Perhaps so, sir ; ” very slowly, and drooping his 
eyelids; “perhaps so. In your candor there is at 
least no sham. Had you any particular reason for 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


303 


selecting Philadelphia as a starting point in your 
medical practice?” asked he, after a pause. 

“ No ; mere chance ” 

Here the door opened, and Sam entered, with 
several little white and brown paper parcels, and 
three or four phials ; the former contained sand or 
sawdust, while the latter might have been filled with 
water colored with ink, or whatever else Sam 
chanced to light on most conveniently. 

“ Here’s the medicine, sir,” said the young scamp, 
breathing very hard ; “ I have been running all the 
way and am nearly out of breath. Golly ! but you’ll 
kill me, doctor, if you don’t get another fellow to 
help in the office ! ” 

‘‘ That will do, Sam,” said Gerald, laughing ; you 
can either throw that stuff into the street or keep it 
till a patient calls. All right” — Sam was making 
divers contortions at his seeming lunacy — “ this 
gentleman is a friend of mine.” 

In the conversation that ensued between Mr. 
Seaford and Barry, the latter tried to turn the dis- 
course on such topics as would give him an inkling 
of the sequel to past events ; but the merchant ap- 


304 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


peared to dislike any mention of them. At last 
Gerald put the question boldly. 

“Pardon me, Mr. Seaford, for alluding to a sub- 
ject which may possibly be distasteful to you ; but 
Frank Rood was a very dear friend of mine, and I 
would like much to hear some news of him. Since 
the day we parted in New York, we have had no 
communication with each other.” 

“ I can give you but little information as regards 
your friend. Doctor Barry, save that he is quite well, 
I believe. However,” and he extended his hand to 
bid good-bye, “if professional engagements do not 
prevent you from dining with me to-moiTow, my 
niece Alice may be able to communicate some news 
of him. Good-bye, sir ; we dine at four. 

Having told Gerald the quarter where he lived, the 
merchant left our hero in a frame of mind very dif- 
ferent from that in which he found him. Mr. Sea- 
ford’s sudden visit, his manner, which, if not cordial, 
was at least friendly, his invitation — all these filled 
Gerald with astonishment, and for the remainder of 
that day the idea of quitting Philadelphia never once 
occurred to him. He lit a fresh cigar and ruminated 
over it. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


305 


Quitting ! No, Gerald Barry ; never give up. Re- 
member the expression of your poetic countryman, 
that the hour before day is always the darkest, and 
apply it to your own prospects. Be patient yet 
awhile ; write an account of an interesting case for 
the medical journals, and, if possible, induce Sam to 
thunder at your door two nights in the week. Do 
you not feel new courage implanted in you, old fel- 
low ; renewed energy to keep on battling till you 
force Dame Fortune to reward the efforts of her un- 
tiring antagonist ? Has not some one said that man 
is but a bundle of habits ? If so, association must be 
the string which ties it. Here I find all my despair, 
ennui, and cynicism replaced by an ardent desire of 
being up and doing ; here is a total change of senti- 
ment, owing to experiencing a little friendliness from 
an old man, or hearing some tidings of my old chum, 

or once more seeing Pshaw ! what a ridiculous 

idea, to be sure ! Seaford’s invitation and the ac- 
count of Frank’s welfare have most decidedly 
wrought this change in me. I know my own consti- 
tution, and feel assured that this little bit of excite- 
ment has served to clear the cobwebs that clogged 
the arterial passages. I wonder if Alice is much 


306 


THE JOINT VENTUEE. 


changed. She might he married. Bosh ! And why 
bosh ? Come now, Mr. Ego, account for that excla- 
mation. Simply, Gerald, because I cannot imagine 
Alice Desmond as the wife of another. And why. 
Ego? Now, Gerald, don’t bother me with your ques- 
tions ; it takes a wise man to answer the questions of 
a fool, you know, and respect for so intimate a friend 
as you are prevents me from coming out in the char- 
acter of sage. You are not a bad sort of fellow, 
Gerald — some thanks to me for it ; but a material 
creature like you cannot be versed in the science of 
Conesthesis. No ; believe me, Alice Desmond is still 
single.^ I know it by the peculiar — but it-would be 
useless to try and initiate you into any mysterious 
doctrines, especially as you are at present completely 
absorbed by more mundane ones. 

Ego was right. Time had worked no change in 
Alice’s condition, and Gerald Barry found her next 
day charming and artless as of yore. Conver- 
sation at dinner was a little restrained, but when 
the young people left Mr. Beaford to his evening 
paper, and adjourned to the drawing-room, they 
quickly reverted to the old sociable style. Mutual 
explanations dispelled every shadow of reserve. 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


307 


Gerald entered an indignant protest against the charge 
of forgetfulness, telling how he had been for some time 
after the elopement uncertain as to his future move- 
ments ; that, having at length decided on completing 
his medical studies in 'New York, he had written to 
Alice, giving a detailed account of his prospects and 
his future hopes. To this he received no reply ; 
and, considerably mortified at the seeming slight, he 
had made up his mind to concentrate all his affec- 
tions on Materia Medica, believing that Mr. Seaford, 
through personal dislike, had induced Alice to break 
off all correspondence with him. 

“And now,” said Alice, “comes my part of the 
story. Your letter, which seemed to have gone a 
weary round in pursuit of the rightful claimant, if 
one might judge by the many suggestions written on 
the envelope to try one place and another, was at 
length delivered by a trusty Mercury several weeks 
after date. The reason of this was that uncle, by the 
advice of his physician, had to seek change of air some 
time after Laura’s marriage. I accompanied him to 
Canada, and on our return to the States he decided 
on removing to Philadelphia. Here it was that your 
letter was forwarded to me. But you were mis- 


308 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


taken in having supposed I was under any restraint 
about writing. I sent a reply, and am at a loss to 
know why it did not reach you.” 

“Some trick played by that envious sprite, Mis- 
chance, I suppose,” said Gerald. “ I remember having 
changed my quarters a few weeks after mailing the 
letter; but it never occurred to me that it could have 
been delayed so long on its mission : hence you must 
forgive me, Alice, if I doubted.” 

“ So long in the darkness of unbelief ! W ell, poor, 
blind mortal, the offense has probably borne its own 
punishment; so of our grace we remit all further 
pains and penalties.” 

“The pardon is most gratefully received, and the 
kindly interposition of fate thankfully acknowledged. 
Does it not strike you as providential, Alice,” continued 
Gerald, in a more serious tone, “ that we should thus 
meet again in Philadelphia ? Why did Mr. Seaf ord 
leave Boston ? Is Frank Rood there still ? ” 

“No; he and Laura removed to San Francisco, 
where my cousin assures me Frank is rapidly acquir- 
ing wealth and distinction in his profession. On 
learning Mark Warren’s deception. Uncle John re- 
lented in some degree towards Laura ; but her mar- 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


309 


riage is still a delicate subject, and after that event he 
seemed to find the old home in Boston irksome. It 
was this, I think, that induced him to remove to 
Philadelphia.” 

So thought Alice, entirely unconscious that John 
Seaford had another and a very different reason for 
his change of residence. 

“ Happy resolve ! ” remarked Dr. Barry, in a tone 
of felicitation. ‘‘ ‘ It might have been ’ is not the 
saddest phrase in our language, Alice ; for instance, 
it might have been that either one of us would be 
now in Boston, and fancy how different the present 
case would then be.” 

‘‘Sad indeed, but not wholly beyond the physi- 
cian’s art, I hope.” 

“ Is there no artifice lurking in your words ? ” said 
Gerald, with a return to the manner of early days. 
“And, by-the-by,” he continued, “what did our 
ticket win ? ” 

“ What ticket ? Ah ! I remember. I do not 
know what became of it. Very sorry. I’m sure, as I 
am certain that it won — a blank,” and she smiled, 
mischievously. 

“ I can then congratulate myself on my good for- 


310 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


tune. Do you recollect that in case our ticket 
proved unsuccessful you were to accept my homage 
for ever?” 

“ What a retentive memory you are blessed with ! 
And is liberty so dead within you that you can 
congratulate yourself on the prospect of continued 
slavery ? ” 

“ Why not, when slavery is happiness ? ” 

‘‘ Have you been a good and faithful servant 
during the past three years?” asked Alice, in a half- 
playful, half-earnest tone. 

‘‘I have never swerved from my allegiance; so ” 

‘‘That will do. We must reward the laborer ac- 
cording to his works; so turn over this music, while 
I play you some of your favorites.” 

From that day things wore a more cheerful aspect 
for our hero in all respects. Mr. Seaford made him 
his family physician, extended him a general invita- 
tion to his house, and took every opportunity of 
introducing the young physician to the notice of 
friends and acquaintances. Of course, Gerald was 
delighted with this turn of fortune’s wheel ; but 
while profiting by the good^ the gods provided, he 
often found himself puzzling over the motives of 


A TALE m TWO LANDS. 


311 


Mr. Seaford’s conduct. The merchant had given 
him the first push in his profession, had invited him 
to his home, behaved as cordially as a naturally 
reserved manner would allow, interposed no obstacle 
to intimacy with his niece ; and why ? Could a 
mere whim induce him to patronize a poor doctor 
whom he found struggling with poverty, and could 
the permitted intimacy with Alice be owing to the 
same caprice, or to pure indifference ? Or could 
Gerald’s innocent participation in the elopement 
prompt John Seaford to help him up the ladder of 
life, to withdraw all social barriers to his claiming 
Alice’s hand, and then wreak his vengeance by a 
bitter refusal? 

No ! no ! ” thought Gerald. His nature could 
not surely be so inhuman and revengeful ! ” 

And as Gerald Barry’s reasonings resulted in no 
tangible conclusion, he was forced to leave the un- 
raveling of the plot to the great scene-shifter, Time. 


312 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

Another year has passed by. At its close we find 
Gerald Barry no longer obliged to make use of ruses 
in obtaining a practice. He had steadily continued 
to mount the ladder, and was now recognized as a 
skillful surgeon and an eminent physician. John 
Seaford still retains a friendly, almost a cordial man- 
ner towards the young doctor whom he found strug- 
gling with adversity. But John Seaford is himself 
much changed. He looks older and more careworn ; 
he has lost all enterest in his erstwhile favorite athe- 
istical and deistical writers; and, somewhat to Gerald’s 
surprise, he now generally leads the conversation to 
Catholic doctrines, many of which he reasons on 
more for the sake of argument, as his two listeners 
often think, than from a want of conviction as to their 
truth. His manner, too, has undergone a considera- 
ble change; his cold stoicism has vanished, and a 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


313 


nervous excitement, followed by fits of depression, 
has taken its place. Once, when Gerald had hinted 
at the advisability of putting himself under medical 
treatment, he became so irritable that Barry dropped 
the subject perforce, and never received encourage- 
ment enough to renew it. 

And Alice ? It was one stilly evening in August 
that Gerald Barry poured forth his tale of love into, 
her ear ; and when a soft hand was placed in his, andi 
when her eyes swam with that expression which no^ 
suitor has ever yet misunderstood, he gathered her to^ 
his breast, and felt that all riches, all other pleasures^, 
fame itself, would be utterly valueless without his 
darling. With what delight did he hear Alice ac- 
knowledge that the ‘‘ I cannot ’’ of former days did 
not imply indifference to his suit. Much as they 
had been thrown together during the past year, there 
had been an avoidance on both sides of the topic 
which was of most absorbing interest. Everything 
else had been freely discussed in mood varying from 
jjjsave to gay, as memory reverted to the silent past,, 
or evoked some bright vision on which youthful fancy 
loves to linger. Not unfrequently, too, would Ger- 
ald’s old habit of disputation lead to arguments, in 


814 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


which there was many a covert allusion intended to 
have a special significance, but not till this evening, 
when devotion and fidelity were crowned with a 
happiness beyond expression, was the memorable con- 
versation in Avonmore referred to ; and as Dr. Barry 
heard Alice Desmond’s low reply to his passionate 
words of love, he strongly inclined to the belief that 
the music of the spheres was no imaginary idea, but 
a veritable fact which he was then and there pre- 
pared to vouch for. Some subtile influence must 
surely have surrounded them ; for, though time reg- 
istered that evening’s interview by hours, Alice and 
Gerald noted it only by moments, winged moments. 

With a throbbing heart did Gerald enter Mr. 
Seaf ord’s library, next day, to ask his consent to their 
union. He found the merchant with his head leaning 
forward on the table, and supported by one hand; in 
the other he held a letter, which, when he glanced 
upwards and saw the visitor, was thrust hurriedly 
into the escritoire before him. 

“ I hope you are not unwell, sir,” said Barry, re- 
verting in his embarrassment to a topic which he im- 
mediately recollected was aught but agreeable. 

Preserving total silence, Mr. Seaford stood up and 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


315 _ 


gazed steadily at him with features unusually 
flushed. Gerald’s heart sank at this reception ; but, 
resolved to know the worst, he made a desperate ef- 
fort, and proceeded to speak in a voice which emotion 
and anxiety rendered somewhat husky and stam- 
mering. 

“ I trust you will pardon me, Mr. Seaford, for en- 
croaching on your hours of business; but feelings of 
honor and duty impel me to immediately lay before 
you a matter of vital interest to me. When first I 
met your niece, some four years ago, I ” 

Mr. Seaford’s face exhibited traces of great mental 
agitation during this speech, and before any further 
remark could be uttered, he raised his hand slowly, as 
if to look at it, reeled, and fell heavily on the floor. 

Barry rushed forward and attempted to raise him, 
but the slow, yet powerful pulse, immovable pupils, 
violent throbbing of the carotids, and stertorous 
breathing warned him that no time was to be lost. 
Ringing for assistance, he threw open the windows, 
and, having placed the merchant on the sofa, pro- 
ceeded to bleed him. With little success, however, 
for he remained in a profound apoplectic stupor. 
Dispatching a servant for further medical assistance. 


316 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


Gerald hastened to see Alice. Disclosing her uncle’s 
illness as gently as he could, and calming her some- 
what by the assurance of there being no immediate 
danger, he requested her to enjoin perfect quietness 
in the house, and returned to his patient. After 
about six hours John Seaford recovered from his 
comatose condition, and a feeble intelligence gleamed 
in the eyes which slowly wandered round the cham- 
ber. Gerald joyfully announced the result to Alice, 
and leaving some directions to guide her, returned to 
his office. 

His visit next morning was a hurried one, but it suf- 
ficed to convince him of Mr. Seaford’s recovery. To 
the query, “ I hope you feel better this morning, 
sir?” he mechanically responded, “Yes,” and looked 
at the physician half-inquiringly, half-appealingly. 
With the same expression did his gaze follow him 
throughout his inspection ; but not caring to encour- 
age conversation in his enfeebled state, Barry uttered 
some cheering remark and left. 

When he returned that evening, Alice met him in 
the hall. 

“How is your patient?” asked he. 

“I feel certain that he is getting stronger every 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


317 


hour. But, Gerald, is it not strange that to all my 
questions and remarks, he says nothing hut ‘Yes’?” 

A terrible suspicion flashed through Gerald’s brain. 
Giving Alice something or other to do which would 
occupy her for a few minutes, he hurried into the 
sick-room. Yes, the patient was rapidly regaining 
strength, and greeted him with a pleasant smile. 

“ Ah ! you are becoming yourself again, sir. If 
you continue progressing so steadily, I can allow you 
to sit up for a while to-morrow. Would you not like 
that?” 

“Yes.” 

The same old inquiring, appealing glance met him, 
and the lips continued to twitch after the mono- 
syllabic reply. 

“Is there anything you wish for?” 

A look of transient intelligence beamed in the 
merchant’s eyes ; then that same expression which 
the physician now partly comprehended. Still, no 
reply save “Yes.” 

Gerald’s suspicion was correct, and succeeding 
days served but to prove its truth. John Seaford 
was afflicted with that rare disease, aphasia, some- 
times consequent on apoplectic, attacks. A complete 


318 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


subversion of the faculty of speech ! Articulation, 
indeed, remained; but memory, as expressed by 
words, had been lost to him. No outlet for the busy 
thoughts that chased each other, mayhap, in his 
brain ! Unwilling prisoners in their cave, they 
glided, and flitted, and looked mournfully from its 
narrow windows ; and, ever and anon, did they beat 
their wings against the walls, though naught save 
‘‘ Yes ” rewarded the efforts ! 

Months elapsed before any change for the better 
in the disarrangement of the old man’s organic func- 
tions became visible — months during which all the 
remedies and stratagems that medicine or other aid 
suggested as likely to prove beneficial, had been ex- 
hausted. A more experienced physician than Barry 
was at work, however, and Nature, laboring silently, 
slowly, yet surely, accomplished in time what medi- 
cine had failed to effect. It was Christmas eve — the 
third day subsequent to the joyous event — when 
Gerald entered his patient’s room in obedience to a 
special summons. Motioning him to a seat, the mer- 


A TALE IJT TWO LANDS. 


319 


chant asked, To what do you attribute my late at- 
tack of apoplexy, Doctor Barry ? ” 

Gerald proceeded to explain the cause of the dis- 
ease, and to point out its future mode of prevention. 
Having heard him to the end, John Seaford said : 

“ You are right in tracing it to depression of spirits; 

and now as to the reason ” 

There was a pause. Conscience and pride had 
waged a deadly conflict in the merchant’s mind, and 
some traces of the- struggle were still apparent. Such 
symptoms could not escape the physician’s eye, and 
Gerald commenced a protest against any effort tend- 
ing to excitement, hut the objection was unheeded, 
for John Seaford had said within himself, “The gall- 
ing chain that bound me to fear and remorse must be 
broken ere the midnight chimes proclaim ‘ Peace on 
earth’;” and as the last beams of the December sun 
sent their faint reflection into the chamber, he made a 
full confession of the injustice he had done. The 
whole story was told — ^his financial embarrassment — 
the pressure exerted by Warren — the temptation to 
dishonesty when the lottery ticket proved to be a 
prize — the certainty that the fraud would never be 
brought to light — and the specious pleas by which he 


320 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


had tried to clothe the naked facts with a garb pleas- 
ing to his fancy. Yet in the plenitude of success he 
had realized how hard is the way of the transgressor. 
The consciousness of guilt and the fear of detection 
were spectres ever present to his mind, and on his 
accidental meeting with Gerald Barry in Philadel- 
phia, his better nature prompted him to do justice. 
But cowardice, which follows the trail of evil with 
the keenness of a sleuth-hound, resisted weak human 
purpose, suggesting that atonement could be made 
without stepping down from the pedestal on which 
the idol Self was enthroned. Hence the kindly offi- 
ces and the friendly demeanor which Gerald was at 
times puzzled to account for. Yet, despite all the ar- 
guments adduced by sophistry, an inward voice cited 
John Seaford to judgment ; and on the memorable 
morning Gerald entered his library the pent-up feel- 
ings of years, coupled with a vague dread that Barry 
had possibly discovered the secret he so jealously 
guarded, brought on the apoplectic fit, which happily 
resulted in his shaking off the incubus that weighed 
so long and so heavily upon him. 

“And now. Dr. Barry,” he concluded, as he handed 
a document to Gerald, “ in tendering this deed, which 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


321 


gives you a legal claim to money that is rightfully 
yours, I must crave forgiveness for the wrong I com- 
mitted. The reparation has been tardy, and I can 
only hope that the happiness I may have debarred 
you from will be amply compensated for in future 
years.” 

Gerald started from his chair, took the deed, and 
throwing it into the fire, exclaimed : 

“Dear Mr. Seaford, let by-gones be by-gones. I 
have much to thank you for, and it is unnecessary 
to say that forgiveness on my part is fully accorded. 
I can never forget that to you is due the position of 
independence which I have at present, and the status 
in medicine which I enjoy. You found me a poor 
devil, obliged to have recourse to miserable trick- 
eries for the scantiest of subsistences, and beginning 
to hate a profession in which I now delight. To-day 
I am happy in the possession of a good practice, and 
to your kindness I owe it all. I beg of you to be- 
lieve, sir, that I do not yet consider my debt of grat- 
itude towards you as having been fully paid.” 

John Seaford turned aside for a moment, then, 
clasping Gerald’s hand warmly, he said, in a faltering 


voice ; 


322 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


“Gerald, I learned to love you during the long 
hours you labored so untiringly to restore me to 
health and speech. But your generosity shall not 
prevent my making atonement. God bless you, 
boy, and let the matter rest for the present. There 
— go talk to Alice, and leave me alone for an hour 
or two. 

Gerald understood the significance of the permis- 
sion thus accorded, and lost no time in availing him- 
self of it. How satisfactory the interview was may 
be inferred from the fact that one month from that 
day a bridal party stood before the altar of the Holy 
Cross Cathedral, the central figures in the group 
being Alice Desmond and Gerald Barry. 

Our story is ended, but we have a few words to 
add, regarding after-events. 

John Seaford kept his promise. In the long hours 
of confinement to the sick couch he had kad ample 
time for reflection, and the question would again and 
again arise: “If once more tempted by sore need, 
would I have greater courage to resist ? Is there no 
aegis against passion, self-love, and self-interest ? 
Would all fall if tried like me?” A hasty sentence 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


323 


was pronounced as one after another was called up 
to judgment. Then memory made a stride back to 
former years. M’Allister ! the earnest searcher 
after truth when a student, and now the self-deny- 
ing missionary. No, assuredly he would not have 
weakly yielded. But whence his superiority to him- 
self ? In the old college days the honor of the one 
was as unquestioned as that of the other. What con- 
stituted the difference now? Strive against it as he 
would, the merchant could not shut out the convic- 
tion that his classmate’s strength lay in an abiding 
faith, whilst wavering opinion, veering with every 
impulse of passion, gave himself no fixed stand- 
point in the hour of trial. Slowly, hut surely, the 
goal was gained; and Father Joseph, in answer to a 
special summons, found his old school friend prepared 
to receive instruction in those higher tenets of belief 
which he had before thought scarcely worth a passing 
notice. The glorious history of the Church — her 
miraculous triumphs over false schools of philosophy, 
sustained by all the force of intellectual pride and 
worldly influence — title-deeds given by the Saviour 
of man — a heritage that should last to the end of 
time — a worship befitting even Divine Majesty — a 


324 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


doctrine inculcating holiness in its full perfection, 
never swerving, never paltering with truth to flatter 
power or subserve interest — all this became an ab- 
sorbing study to John Seaford. The mists were 
cleared from his mental view, and he rejoiced that 
the darkness had been dispelled. His first act after 
recovery was to make full restitution to Gerald and 
Alice. A deed was drawn up similar to that which 
had been destroyed, and this time the merchant 
would not be gainsaid. 

Laura had hastened to Philadelphia when she 
heard of her father’s illness, and the voices of chil- 
dren now resound in John Seaford’s house. One 
dark-eyed little damsel, who calls herself Minnie 
Hood, is generally allowed to be “grandpa’s pet,” 
and maintains her claim to the title against all 
competitors. 

Mark Warren sought consolation for his two-fold 
disappointment in the affections of a lively widow 
whose sensibilities would not have sustained a very 
rude shock had she been fully enlightened as to her 
husband’s first matrimonial venture. This secret, 
however, he did not think fit to divulge, although his 
wife has been known to express the most liberal sen- 


A TALK IN TWO LANDS. 


825 


timents on the question of divorce. This is particu- 
larly the case when, after whirling through the mazes 
of a waltz in the parlor of a fashionable hotel she ob- 
serves an angry scowl on her husband’s brow, accom- 
panied with a muttered threat of settling down on a 
Southern plantation. Mutual friends smile when this 
remark is made in their hearing, for Mrs. Warren 
takes credit for having made “ the noblest study of 
mankind” a specialty; hence every scheme in the 
matrimonial economy must have her sanction to be- 
come law ; and as she asserts her resolve not to be 
buried alive to gratify any man’s w^him, we fear Mr. 
Warren will knit his brows and indulge in irreverent 
expressions some time longer. 

And tte abandoned wife — the innocent victim of an 
iniquitous law? After being disowned and spurned 
by her husband, there was a long interval, during 
which poor Julie took no note of time ; but one day 
the Little Sisters of the Poor received a new member 
into their community, and Sister Euphrasie found in 
religion and deeds of charity a balm for the wrongs 
and sorrows of Julie Liberte. 

Alice speaks frequently of a visit to Avonmore, 
and once alluded to the possibility of undertaking 


326 


THE JOINT VENTURE. 


the expedition on her own account, whereat the Doc- 
tor shook his head, and recalled the sad experience of 
Alice Desmond and Gerald Barry, when twice parted 
by adverse fate, as a warning against any separations 
in the future; then, seeing Alice’s blue eyes droop, he 
promised to embark on another joint venture when a 
certain desired amount would have been placed to 
his credit by Messrs. Lawson & Co. 

And the proceeds of the lottery ticket ? 

We will first ask your opinion, dear reader, of lot- 
teries, and if it coincides with that which Alice one 
day expressed to Gerald when he introduced the sub- 
ject, it may not be matter of surprise if the Sisters in 
charge of the orphan asylum some time after grate- 
fully acknowledged a munificent donation from an 
unknown benefactor. Dr. and Mrs. Barry’s names 
also appeared as promoters of various enterprises for 
the relief of suffering and distress ; and one of 
Alice’s cherished projects for the future is the estab- 
lishment of a literary institution in Avonmore, where 
the children of Ireland shall learn how their fathers, 
in days gone by, brought enlightenment to the na- 
tions, and transmitted to their descendants that love 
for truth and justice, that devotion to the altar and 


A TALE IN TWO LANDS. 


327 


the home, which glowed in the breasts of martyrs 
and patriots through ages of tyranny, and is still 
cherished by every true son and daughter of the 
Catholic isle. 

To our hero and heroine we say. Bon voyage, and 
to you, dear farewells 





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